Home
by repr0b8
Summary: Helo is forced to take drastic measures to protect his family after a series of events aboard Galactica open his eyes to the reality he and Sharon face. Set after A Measure of Salvation, it goes completely AU after that.
1. Chapter 1

**Far From Home**  
**Author:** JPBryant  
**Characters:** Sharon/Helo  
**Rating:** Mature, for descriptions of violence, language and sexual situations.  
**Spoilers:** Through 'A Measure of Salvation", everything after that is AU.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
**Summary:** Helo is forced to take drastic measures to protect his family after a series of events aboard Galactica open his eyes to the reality he and Sharon face. Set after "A Measure of Salvation", it goes completely AU after that.  
**A/N:** This if the first of seventeen chapters to the story, I'll be posting them as I finish them. Thanks to wintergreen126, jazmin22, and honibrownhateza for beta'ing this story.

**Prologue**

"Did it work?" the brown haired man asked anxiously, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he stared over his counterpart's shoulder. "Did it work?"

She lifted her hand from the water, light from beneath dancing across her chiseled features. "Yes," she replied.

The brown haired man watched intently, eyes darting back and forth furtively between her and the water. "Yes? Yes what?"

"It means, yes, it worked," she replied calmly. "It's done."

He lifted a finger to his lips and turned away as he thought through the infinite number of outcomes. "When will we know?" he asked.

"It's up to her," she answered.

"And until then?"

"We wait."

"Wait, is it?" he nodded, smiling sarcastically. "I've gotten quite good at that, I think."

"Patience, Gaius," she said, looking up from the lights. "Patience." 

**Chapter 1**

Blinking twice into the dim light of the room, Helo's mind was fully alert the moment his eyes had opened. It wasn't how he liked to wake up. He liked to take his time, gradually moving through the stages of consciousness, letting all the gears warm up before being put to use. It was a luxury he had been denied for too long, nearly everyday since he had met her. But now that he had found it again, its sudden absence unnerved him. 

Before he could blink again, he knew what had woken him. Or rather, the lack of what that had woken him. The empty spot beside him on the inside the small bed was just that. Empty.

Pushing himself up on his elbows, he found her on the opposite side of the small room, kneeling in prayer, and he exhaled his first breath of the day. Dropping his head back onto the pillow, he closed his eyes, letting the abrupt rush of chemicals that signaled fear and relief fade from his system.

Turning onto his side, he opened his eyes and looked back to her. Dressed in standard issue tanks and slacks, her long hair hid her face completely from him. Silent and still she remained kneeling, hands on her thighs with her head slightly bowed as she faced the bare, steel wall. For a moment she reminded him of the marble servant statues that surrounded the temples of Geminon. He doubted she would appreciate the comparison. 

"Good morning," he said quietly.

She turned slowly away from the wall, and met him with a smile. "Good morning," she replied

"Isn't there some way you can do that while staying in bed?" he asked, returning the smile. "It gets cold over here."

Standing up, she covered the short distance to the bed in three steps, and then threw a leg over his covered body, straddling him.

"There's something about being in this bed that makes me feel less than pious," she replied, leaning over and stealing a long kiss from him. "Something I like." 

Her dark hair fell around her face and tickled his, forming a curtain that concealed their grins from the rest of the universe. Taking his turn, he lifted his head off the pillow, craning up to find her lips again. She met him half way, her cold dog tags brushing against his chest as her warm lips pressed against his.

Breaking the kiss, he let his head fall back to the pillow, enjoying every moment of her presence. He looked down at her dangling dog tags, then reached up and took them in his fingers to read the inscription. _Lt. Agathon, S. 54125-21_

"Have I ever told you how sexy you look in these?" he asked, his fingers still playing with the tags. 

"Only every time you see them," she replied with a small laugh.

"You look so damn sexy in these," he repeated for good measure. And even if sexy conveyed only a fraction of what he felt, a sliver of the sentiment he harbored, he knew she understood the rest.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"Yeah."

She leaned in closer, her lips coming to rest just centimeters from his ear as she gently pulled the tags from his fingers. "Then I better keep them out of sight," she whispered, lifting the tags then deftly tucking them into the top of her tanks and out of view. "At least until we have time to take care of any problems they might cause."

He reached for the bottom of her tanks, the knowledge of the tags new resting place doing little to curb his interest in them, but she was up and out of his reach before he could react.

"You've got twenty minutes, Captain," she said, tapping her wrist as she stepped away from the bed, still smiling. "I won't let you blame me for being late."

Looking down at his watch, he let out a resigned sigh, then pulled the covers off and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

He sat there for a few seconds, watching as she walked over to her locker and pulled out her flight suit. She looked it over carefully, smoothing out a crease that had developed in the sleeve overnight. It seemed everywhere he looked there was something to remind him how far they had come. 

"You're not getting any cleaner sitting there," she commented, still examining the suit.

"Yes, sir," he laughed, pushing himself off the bed and heading into the tiny bathroom.

The spray from the shower was hot the moment he turned it on, and he silently thanked the admiral for the thousandth time. Stepping into the one-person stall, he let the water pour down and the steam rise up, thoughts of the coming day starting to trickle into his mind. Refueling was the order of the day, with half the fleet needing to be replenished. He had no doubt it would be a long and tedious shift, and the colonel's return to the CIC would only make it that much more so.

As he thought about it all, it seemed today was destined to join the growing number of days he would rather be on the flight roster.

He wiped the water from his eyes and ran his hands through his wet hair, pushing the thought from his mind. The colonel and the CAG could try all the wanted to make his life miserable. And all the leftover frakkers from Pegasus could say whatever they wanted; the Agathons weren't going anywhere. 

Stepping from the shower she handed him his towel before he could grab it himself. Now dressed in her flight suit, she stared into an open binder, studying the contents intently as she paced across the room. Quickly toweling himself off, he threw on his uniform and ran a comb through his short hair. Snapping the last button on his jacket, he walked to where she stood and wrapped his arms around her from behind.

"Can I ask you something, Sharon?" he asked, resting his cheek on the top of her head. 

"Hmmm?" she replied, not looking up from her binder. 

"You've started praying again." He felt her stiffen in his arms slightly.

"Yeah," she answered after a pause. 

"You got room for me in those prayers?"

She closed her binder and turned in his arms to look at him. "I hardly have room for anything but you," she replied.

"Not prayers for me," he corrected himself. "From me."

Her eyebrows arched in surprise. "From you?"

"I like to cover my bases," he said, smiling. "Just in case."

A small, genuine smile appeared on her lips. "Okay," she said with a nod. She studied him a moment, then stood up on her toes, and kissed him quickly on the cheek. Standing back down flat on her feet, she took his hand, and gestured towards the door. "You ready?" 

"Let's go."

-----

"The Cylons jumped in here." Lee leaned over the table and pointed to a spot on the navigation charts. "Two raiders at the edge of the fleet." 

"And then they ran," Colonel Tigh added from his seat beside Admiral Adama. Huddled around the wooden table in the admiral's office, Helo joined them in the analysis of their most recent encounter with the Cylons.

"Same as two days ago," Lee continued, shaking his head. "We chased them for five hundred clicks, and not once did they fire a shot."

The colonel looked up at the CAG through his one good eye. "Setting a trap." 

"That's what it looked like. So I called off the pursuit when we got to the edge of Galactica's DRADIS sensors." Lee tilted his head and stared down at the charts, searching for something. "But it didn't feel like an ambush. Something was out of place."

All four men sat in silence as they each considered the evidence. And the longer Helo looked at, the more it made sense. From across the table the admiral's gaze came to rest on him.

"Captain?" the admiral prompted.

Helo straightened up in his chair and rubbed his chin in thought. "They're counting our guns," he said, looking around at the other men. For a moment he debated saying anything more, but the admiral's eyes told him more was needed. "That's what Sharon thinks."

"Counting our guns?" Lee asked, making no effort to hide his skepticism. "That's ridiculous. Why would the Cylons ever need to measure our strength? "

The automatic doubt was something Helo had grown used to since Lee and the colonel had returned to Galactica; it was a daily battle to make his voice heard. He turned to face Lee squarely.

"They know where we are. That's a fact." Helo leaned pointed to the map as he continued. "These patrols found us twice in the last seventy-two hours, and they had plan for what they were going to do when they did." He turned back toward the admiral who remained expressionless. "They had their chance to ambush us. They didn't. They had their chance to go after the heart of the fleet. They didn't."

The admiral digested the words before speaking. "Why?"

"I don't know." He and Sharon had talked into the night about why the Cylons might be watching instead of attacking, with no concrete answer to show for the lost sleep. "But Sharon thinks-"

"Sharon thinks, Sharon thinks," the colonel mocked, cutting him off. The hardened officer stared coldly at him. "And you Agathon, do you ever have an original thought?"

Ignoring Tigh's effort to goad him, he started again. "Sharon thinks we might be moving along a parallel path with the Cylon fleet." Leaning over the map, he drew a line with his finger to emphasize the point. "That's why they're having no problem finding us. And whatever they're doing, they're going to keep doing it until we stop them."

"So what then?" Lee asked, shaking his head. "We put patrols at the edge of DRADIS and hope to catch them when they jump in?"

"No," Helo replied. "They've already figured out how far we're willing to chase them. They know our limit." Reaching across the table, his long arms stretched out to circle three spots on the map. "We put patrols with Raptors out here, beyond Galactica's DRADIS sensors."

"Outside the DRADIS?" Tigh asked in shocked disbelief. "That's insane."

"The Cylons won't be looking for it, and we only need to catch them once." Helo ignored the other two men at the table, looking back at the admiral. "Then we tack back along our current course, and leave them wondering what the hell just happened."

"And if it is an ambush?" Lee asked, still shaking his head. "Then what, Karl?"

"I can't believe you're even suggesting this," Tigh added.

Helo kept his gaze on the admiral. "Admiral, if we don't force them to adjust, they'll force us to."

"Oh for frak's sake," the colonel exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "Save the home-spun Cylon wisdom for someone else, Agathon."

"If Sharon's wrong-" Lee started, but Helo cut him off.

"If Sharon's wrong, then-"

"Enough," the admiral said, bringing the discussion to a halt. The old man took a deep breath and pulled the map closer to his edge of the table. Studying it carefully, he removed his glasses, then looked back to his son. "Keep the CAP close to the fleet, maintain our usual patrol patterns," he said.

"Yes, sir," Lee replied, trying and failing to hide a small victory smile. Helo hoped he did a better job of concealing his own feelings at the moment.

The admiral set his glasses down on the table and stood up. "We'll re-evaluate in twenty-four hours. Dismissed." Helo pushed his chair away from the table, and stood up along with the other two men, but the admiral motioned for him to stay where he was. "Except you, Captain. We need to talk." 

Remaining standing, Helo watched the other men leave, then looked back to the charts spread over the table. He sighed quietly as the admiral turned away, and took a slow, controlled breath; he found little consolation in knowing he had at least tried.

When the admiral stepped back, he placed two crystal glasses on the table, one in front of Helo and the other in front of himself. From a glass decanter he carefully poured a drink for each of them. Lifting his drink from the table, he motioned for Helo to do the same.

"It makes sense," the old-man said as Helo reached for his glass. The admiral looked at Helo then back down at the navigation charts. "And I agree. It's not enough to stay one step ahead."

Helo paused as the admiral took a sip of his drink, unsure what to make of the contradiction between the old man's orders a few moments ago and the words he had just heard.

"Yes, sir."

"Don't let those two get to you. When they get over the source of the idea, they'll realize it too." The admiral turned to his desk and grabbed a folder from it, then sat back down at the large table, pointing at the chair across from him. "Take a seat."

As Helo sat down, the admiral pushed the folder across the table towards him. Taking another drink, the admiral watched Helo patiently. Helo looked down at the folder, nondescript in every way except for the presidential seal stamped on its cover. Pushing his drink to the side, he opened it and started to read.

_Priority: Urgent – Priority 1Flagged  
Subject: Human-Cylon Hybrid Background_

Was the child capable of 'downloading'?  
Did the child at any time 'download'?  
Was the child capable of 'downloading' after death?  
Did the child 'download' after death?  
Could the child-

He could see the list of questions continued down the length of the page. Closing the folder with an unsteady hand, he pushed back the bile rising in his throat. He looked across the table at the admiral and found the old-man staring into his already half-empty glass.

"What is this?" Helo asked.

"They're questions for Sharon," the admiral replied, shifting his gaze from his drink to spot across the room. "Written up by the president, and approved by me."

Still uncertain what to make of the document, Helo steeled himself, and opened the folder once again. 

_How many other attempts were made to breed cylons and humans?  
How many other attempts were made to mislead humans into breeding with cylons?  
How many other attempts to mislead humans into breeding with cylons did you participate in?  
_  
Helo closed the folder again, unable to continue.

"What the frak is…" He stopped to in an attempt to cool the flare of resentment that the questions had sparked. The things he wanted to say, the words he wanted to scream, he would not level against this man; he didn't deserve them. "Our daughter is dead. Is this necessary?" 

The admiral finally met his eyes, and behind the wire frames Helo could see a measure of his own pain in the old-man's eyes. "The president and I feel it's necessary to gain a deeper understanding of what the Cylons' objectives might be."

Helo shook his head, his brow furrowing in confusion. "It's been almost two years, sir."

"And we should have asked these questions then, Captain," the admiral said evenly, his expression once again becoming unreadable. "It's not enough to stay one step ahead, Captain. We need to understand why your daughter was so important to the Cylons. Sharon might be the only person that can help us do that."

As the old man emptied the last of his glass, Helo stared down at his own untouched drink, then back to the folder in front of him. He wasn't sure he could open it again, never mind subject Sharon to the contents. The room fell silent for a moment, each man keeping their thoughts to themselves, till the admiral spoke again.

"If you prefer, I can take these to her," he suggested soberly, but the offer only reignited the fires of indignation.

Helo shook his head. "No, sir." Standing up from the table, he picked up the folder and tucked it under his arm, eager to end the conversation before his emotions took stronger hold of him. "That won't be necessary."

The admiral remained seated and glanced over at the navigation charts, pulling one in front of him and starting at it. "I know how it feels," he said. "To lose a child."

Helo stared back in silence, his jaw tight.

"I know the wound never heals," the admiral continued, his eyes still avoiding Helo's. "I wouldn't ask this of you two unless it was important."

"Yes, sir," Helo replied, trying to keep his emotions in check as he felt the admiral's loss merge with his. "If you don't mind, sir, I need to see the chief before this shift ends,"

The admiral's eyes returned to Helo, and he looked as though he had more to say. But then he simply looked back down at the map before him, and nodded his head.

"Dismissed."

Turning sharply, Helo walked out of the admiral's quarters and into the crowded corridor. Looking both directions down the hallway, he took a deep, cleansing breath, and headed towards the flight deck.

-----

The deck was crowded as always, the complement of two battlestars packed onto the single, aging Galactica. The lack of space had transformed the deck into place of pure pandemonium to the untrained eye, and a corner of controlled chaos to the trained one. Helo was here to find the man that somehow made it all work.

Scanning the deck he found the chief shaking his head in disgust at a deckhand. Helo couldn't make out the words over the cacophony of sounds that filled the hangar, but it seemed as though the deckhand was having a bad day too. Tyrol dismissed the berated man as Helo approached. 

"Chief," Helo greeted as he approached

"Hey, Captain," Tyrol replied calmly, without a hint of the ire he had directed at the other man only a moment ago. "You're here for the fuel usage reports?"

"Yeah."

"This way, Captain." Tyrol motioned with a gloved hand for Helo to follow him, and set off across the busy deck. Stepping over a stray piece of wire tubing, he looked back he looked back at Helo. "Excuse the mess, it's turning into one of those days."

"Tell me about-" 

"One second, Captain," Tyrol said, cutting him off with a raised hand. Shaking his head he walked over to a deckhand working on a Viper. "What are you doing, Miller? What are you doing? You're gonna tear the pylon off doing that!"

"Sorry, Chief, I didn't-"

"Just hold the wing," Tyrol said, stepping under the wing and grabbing the ratchet from the man's hand.

"I got it," Helo offered, stepping up and bracing his arms against the Viper's starboard wing.

"Five seconds," the chief said, and a moment later the weight of the wing came down. Helo's arms and legs strained for a moment, but the chief was accurate in his prediction, and seconds later the weight was gone. Coming out from beneath the Viper, he handed the deckhand his ratchet. "No shortcuts, Miller. Get the frakking crane and do it right next time." 

"Yes, Chief."

Tyrol looked back at Helo, his eyes wandering to a spot on his sleeve. Helo looked down to see a small smudge of grease on his jacket. The chief apologized. "Sorry about that Captain," he said.

"No worries," he replied, examining the sleeve. Executive Officers didn't get too many chances to get dirty; definitely one of the downsides of the job. "The fuel usage reports?" he prompted.

"Oh, yeah, sorry." Walking over to a nearby workbench, he picked up a stack of papers and handed them to Helo. "Here you go, Captain."

Helo flipped slowly through the reports, most of them as grease-stained as his jacket now was. The chief's handwriting was nearly illegible, with notes crammed into the tiny margins between each set of figures. It would take him hours to simply translate it all into something he could show the admiral, but he couldn't blame the chief. The man was busy.

"Something wrong, Captain?" Tyrol asked. 

"No," Helo replied quickly. "Why do you ask?"

The chief shrugged, then turned to rest his back and elbows against the workbench. "You just look a little distracted, sir, that's all." 

If the chief of all people thought he looked distracted, he couldn't argue. Letting out a long sigh, he continued to flip through the reports. "Some days it just doesn't pay to get out of bed, Chief."

"Some days?" the chief asked, with a smile. "I'm thinking it's more like most of them."

Letting out a short laugh, Helo set the reports back down. "How's Nick doing?"

"He's good," Tyrol replied, his smile growing. "Already knows how to drive his parents crazy, which just goes to show the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree." 

"I'll bet," Helo said, smiling back. "How old is…" 

Helo's voice trailed off as he watched as his wife walked mere meters in front of him. She hadn't seen him yet, and he most certainly hadn't expected to see her here.

"Sharon?" he asked in confusion. She turned at the sound of his voice, her expression of surprise matching his own. "What are you doing here?" he asked, handing the flask back to Tyrol and walking over to her. 

"Hey, babe," she said, her look of surprise fading into something else. She stood still as he came near, then reached out to give his hand a small squeeze. "How's your day?"

"Sharon what are you doing here?" he asked, his own shock not fading in the least. It was the middle of her CAP, and here she was, standing in front him. "Why aren't you out there? Why aren't you on CAP?" 

She thought about the answer for a second, and he knew from that alone that he wasn't going to like the answer. "I'm recalibrating the sensors on a Raptor."

He looked around trying to find Raptor 109, her assigned bird, but it was nowhere in sight. "Which one?"

Again she hesitated, obviously aware that her answer would not please him. "All of them."

"All of them?" he asked in utter disbelief, his voice rising slightly. "All of them? You're not flying at all?"

"Too many pilots, not enough birds," she said, shrugging her shoulders and glancing around the crowded deck. "You know how it is, babe." 

"Yeah, I know," he replied, his eyes moving from one Raptor to another. "But all of them? That's ridiculous."

"I can do five of them in the time it takes one of you to do one," she said with a teasing smile. "It's not that bad, Helo. You should see some of the stuff Apollo has the spare ECOs doing."

"Yeah," he relented, his eyes moving across the deck, seeing a sea of unfamiliar faces. The work might not be bad, but he couldn't help feeling she was safer out there than she was in here.

"Helo," Sharon said, reaching out to take his arm. When he didn't look back at her, she tugged him gently till he did. Her dark eyes were full of patience. "This is not a big deal."

"I know," he said, nodding his head. "It's just that-"

"It's not," she said quickly, her eyes imploring him to hear her. She squeezed his arm again and took a half a step closer, lowering her voice to a near whisper. "It's not important, Helo."

"How long?" he asked, trying his best to mirror her tone. "How long have you been single-handedly recalibrating these Raptors?" 

Smiling up at him, she shook her head and leaned in close, her body pressing lightly against his.

"I've gotta get this finished, babe," she said, pointing to a nearby Raptor. She gave his hand a series of small squeezes to tell him everything was alright, and then stepped away. "I'll see you at the end of the shift, okay?"

Knowing Sharon, and knowing he would get no further, he relented. "Okay." With a final smile, she turned and walked away.

With a deep breath, he tried to remember what he was doing, and forget about what he wanted to do to the man that had assigned her down here. Recalling why he'd come down to the deck in the first place, he turned to look for the fuel reports, and found the chief still watching him.

"Everything alright, Captain?" Tyrol asked.

He walked over to pick up the papers he had left on the workbench, shaking his head, then stopped, and looked at the chief. With his orange jump-suit, steel-toed boots and heavy work gloves, the CPO offered a stark contrast to Helo's own pressed uniform. But nonetheless, Galen Tyrol understood.

They weren't friends, they never would be; too much had transpired. But there was a level of respect, trust, and understanding that they would always share, even if they each envied the other in their own ways.

"How many days has she been down here, Chief?" 

Tyrol shook his head as he thought about it. "I don't know," he said, squinting his eyes in thought. "A week at least?" 

Helo bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. Looking around the crowded hangar, he couldn't put names to more than half of the faces he saw. He doubted any of them knew, or cared, why the Cylon working beside them was different than all the others.

All of them had a grudge, and it would take only one to end everything. 

"Chief, I need to ask a favor."

Tyrol shook his head. "I've got it covered, Captain." The chief scanned the deck the same as Helo had a moment before. "This is my shop. Nothing's going to happen to her here."

With a small nod, Helo took a last glance around the hangar. He knew the chief would watch out for her. There was no doubt about that. But the fact that he even needed to, said more than Helo wanted to think about today. 

-----

A few hours later he walked slowly down the corridor leading away from the flight deck, Sharon walking beside him. The day had only grown worse as it had gone on, a confrontation with Lee outside the CIC marking the end his shift.

Neither Helo nor Sharon spoke as they made their way towards the residential area of the ship, both keeping their weary eyes on the ground in front of them. All he wanted was for the day to end, and from the look on his wife's face, he knew she felt the same. Whatever she might say to him about the work the CAG had given her, he knew that the stream of subtle insults she endured took their toll.

"You should have told me," he said as they made the last turn towards their quarters.

"What would you have done?" she asked without looking up.

He couldn't supply a good answer to the question, mainly because one didn't exist. There wasn't a lot he could have done, except maybe complain to the Admiral. But that wasn't how they did things, and it certainly wasn't what she wanted.

"I just worry," he replied.

"I don't want you to worry," she said. "That's why I didn't say anything."

She reached out and grabbed the handle on the door to their quarters, punching in the access code, and the pulling it open.

"I worry when you don't tell me things," he said stoically. He didn't have any emotion left for the day. "That you don't tell me things when they might worry me."

Stepping through the doorway, she walked over to her locker as he shut the door behind them.

"Yeah," she said quietly.

He made his way to the bed and sat down, unsnapping the buttons on his jacket. Pulling it off, he noticed again the small grease stain left from earlier in the day. He threw it onto a nearby chair as Sharon stepped out of her flight-suit and headed to the bathroom, discarding the rest of her cloths as she turned on the shower and stepped inside. The sound of the falling water echoed loudly through the tiny room, the pitch changing occasionally as she moved under the spray. 

Alone in the room, he spotted the folder the admiral had given him earlier in the day. He stared at it as he took off his shoes and tucked them under the bed. Opening the drawer on the nightstand, he grabbed the folder and threw it in, then shut the drawer quietly. If they wanted answers to their questions, they would have to wait till another day.

He pulled a pillow under his head and lay back, listening to the white-noise that filled the room. Resting a hand against his forehead, he closed his eyes, and took a deep breath as he contemplated not moving from that spot for the rest of the night.

Instead he stood up, and made his way over the shower, lifting his tanks over his head and pushing his slacks to the floor before stepping in to join his wife.

Sharon quickly made room for him in the ostensibly one-person shower. Pressed against the cold metal walls and each others warm bodies, the hot water poured between them. Holding each other for comfort as well as necessity, the steam rose up around them.

"I wasn't sure you'd make it," she said.

"I can't resist the dog tags," he replied, leaning over through the spray to kiss her.

"I hope not," she said as his lips left hers, resting her cheek against his chest.

For a few minutes they simply stood there in each others embrace, doing nothing but letting the water and steam clean the day off of them. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so tired.

"Long day," he said.

"Yeah," she agreed, still resting her head against him. "But it beats running from centurions and sleeping in the rain."

"Yeah," he replied with a small laugh, his thoughts returning to their time on Caprica. "I guess."

"This is what we wanted, Helo," she said, turning to kiss his neck once, then again. "You're where you want to be, and I'm where I want to be."

Her lips made their way across his collar bone, leaving a trail of kisses in their wake, and slowly his thoughts and worries slipped away with the water that fell off them. Gently pushing her against the wall with his body, his lips and hands began a journey of their own, leaving the day forgotten.


	2. Chapter 2

**Far From Home**  
**Author:** JPBryant  
**Characters:** Sharon/Helo  
**Rating:** Mature, for descriptions of violence, language and sexual situations.  
**Spoilers:** Through 'A Measure of Salvation", everything after that is AU.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
**Summary:** Helo is forced to take drastic measures to protect his family after a series of events aboard Galactica open his eyes to the reality he and Sharon face. Set after "A Measure of Salvation", it goes completely AU after that.  
**A/N:** The second of seventeen chapters to the story, I'll be posting them as I finish them. Thanks to wintergreen126, jazmin22, and honibrownhateza for beta'ing this story.

**Chapter 2**

"Nothing," she said.

"Nothing." he repeated, nodding his head slowly. "Well that's just brilliant." 

"Gaius, it's too soon to-"

"Did you say too soon?" he asked, his voice rising an octave. "They know I'm alive. They know Hera is alive. And I'm afraid that, unlike you my dear, I don't have the ability to borrow a new body when this one stops working."

She watched him quietly, waiting for him to finish completely before speaking. "Your being overly dramatic, Gaius."

"Your concern is touching, as always." 

"Listen to me Gauis," she said sharply. "She will see it. And when she does, they'll have no choice but to come." 

"You put to much faith in them."

She stared at him for a long moment, searching his eyes, then nodded slightly. "Perhaps."

-----

Helo awoke without warning, once again thrust out of sleep and into reality, every sense alert as the faint smell of smoke reached him. The walls of the dark room flickered with a pale, orange light that cast long, weak shadows along every object. He knew without looking that he was alone in bed. When he did, he found the covers on her side folded back carefully, as if she had never been there.

He sat up and found her immediately. Across the room, her kneeling silhouette blocked the tiny flame that struggled and failed to illuminate their quarters. Facing the wall, her naked form was outlined in fiery orange, a few flickering rays of light slipping between the strands of her hair. She sat there still and silent, her head bowed in prayer.

"Sharon?" he called out quietly, but she made no movement. Slipping his legs out of bed, he wasn't sure what, if anything, he should do. The sight was alien to him. "Sharon are you okay?"

She made no motion or sound to indicate that she had heard him, remaining perfectly still except for the slight rise and fall of her shoulders as she inhaled and exhaled.

"Sharon?" he called once again as he rose from the bed. The clothes she'd fallen asleep in sat in a pile beside her along with her dog tags, the brass catching and reflecting the light of the flame. He took the bed cover with him as he crossed the short distance to where she knelt. From over her shoulder he could see the single white candle she sat before, half of it already melted and cooled in a pool on the metal floor. Dropping to a knee beside her, he draped the blanket over her shoulders to shelter her from the chill air. Her eyes remained fixed on the light as he did so, and he could see a trail of tears that made it's way down her cheek and fell onto her chest.

He reached out a hand to stop a tear, and as his finger brushed her cheek, she seemed to notice him for the first time. Turning to look at him, she met his eyes and smiled. There was nothing forced or feigned in the expression, no hint of sadness or loss. It was a smile he had never seen before, out-of-place and wonderful.

The flickering candle flame danced in a tear that fell across her far cheek, sliding down till it caught the edge of her smile. He leaned over to brush it away, but she captured his wrist softly before he could do so.

"Sit with me," she said, pulling him ever so slightly closer. He did as she asked, crossing his legs beneath him, their shoulders and thighs touching as she looked back towards the light.

Confused and unsure, he joined her in staring into the tiny flame. A million questions came to his mind, but he couldn't find the words for any of them, and even if he could, he wasn't sure he wanted the answers. As often as he might tell her he wanted to know everything, there were things he was afraid to know.

He looked over at her again and watched the light catch the edges of her dark hair, setting them aflame in shades of auburn. The smile had vanished, replaced by an expression of peaceful contemplation.

"Pray with me?" she asked without looking away from the candle.

He opened his mouth to reply, but shut it quickly as he realized that again he had no words. The request was so much more than she had ever asked of him in this regard; he didn't even know where to begin. 

"Sharon, I..." he started, then stopped. "I don't even know..."

She waited patiently for him to continue, but when it was clear he wouldn't, she took his hand in hers once again.

"It's okay, Helo," she said, with a small smile, a smile he knew. "You don't have to believe."

He wanted to tell her that it wasn't a lack of faith that held him back, but he simply nodded and looked back to the flame. But this was important to her and so it would be important to him to, even if he didn't know why.

He tried to remember the prayers he had learned as a child, and when he did, he found them inadequate. None of them seemed to fit this moment or time in his life, none of them matched what he felt inside.

Closing his eyes, he abandoned what he knew and simply thanked the Gods, as many of them as he could name, for everything in his life. When he ran out of his Gods, he thanked hers, wondering if the prayer of a human carried any weight.

They watched the candle burn down as the minutes stretched from night to morning. The time passed in silence; an occasional glance or brush of the hand the only communication they shared. Though questions circled in his mind, he never gave into the urge to ask them, and instead pondered them alone, finding his own answers as he was apt to do. 

And when the flame finally exhausted itself in the early morning hours, she took his hand in hers and leaned her head on his shoulder. Within a minute she was asleep, the sound of her breath even and slow in his ear. Carefully lifting her from the floor, he carried her to the bed, and offered a final prayer of his own before letting sleep take him as well.

-----

"I love you," she whispered.

Helo opened his eyes and shut them immediately as the light of the room blinded him. Rolling over, he buried his face in the pillow. "What time is it?"

"Don't get up," Sharon said quietly, placing a hand on his arm. "It's still early."

"How early?" he asked, his voice muffled by the pillow.

"Zero-five-hundred."

"Gods," he muttered, as he tried to crawl deeper into the covers. Memories of the night before came back to his mind, and he knew why he felt the way he did; he doubted it had been more than an a few hours since he brought her back to bed. He rolled onto his back and tried to open his eyes, then gave up. "Sleep isn't a luxury for all of us, Sharon."

"I didn't mean to wake you," she said, her voice showing none of the exhaustion his did. "I just wanted to tell you that before I left."

There was something wrong with what she was saying, but it took his sluggish thought process a second to figure out what it was. Finally opening his eyes, he looked over to see her already dressed in her flight suit, her hair tied back in a pony-tail, ready for the day to start.

"It's so early," he said. "Your shift doesn't start for another two hours." "I know," she replied, standing up and walking over to her locker. "But I'm almost done with those calibrations. I want to get them done today."

"Yeah," he acknowledged, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Okay. Just give me a minute to get cleaned up and I'll walk you down there."

She shook her head as she pulled a duffle from her locker. "Don't worry about it, babe, go back to bed. I think I can find my own way down there."

He frowned at the suggestion. Spending an extra five minutes with her each morning was a nice way to start the day, but it wasn't the reason he walked with her to and from each shift. Despite all the freedoms and responsibility she had been given, the fate of Galactica's other Sharon was never too far from his mind; it would only take one person and one moment for him to lose everything.

"It will only take me a second," he said with a yawn, swinging his legs off the side of their bed and trying to summon the will to stand up.

"Babe." Sharon walked back over and placed a hand on his shoulder, pushing him till he was again on his back. "Go to sleep."

"Yeah," he conceded, letting his tired lids close.

Leaning over him, she stole a small kiss. "Meet me at the observation deck when the shift ends?" 

"Okay," he answered, the question barely registering with him.

He pulled the covers back over him as he heard the hatch open and shut. Settling back into the bed, the familiar sounds and smells of their room were as comforting as the pillow beneath his head. As he lay there waiting for sleep to return, the scent of her skin lingered in his mind, conjuring memories of their first night in this bed, the night before she left for New Caprica. They hadn't known if there would ever be a second night, but that was the story of their life, and they hadn't let it stop them from enjoying the moment to the fullest.

One memory flowed into another, holding off sleep as his mind recalled the first of firsts. Sleeping on the wet forest floor, searching abandoned buildings for food, and waiting for the rain to stop; Caprica had been the forge that bound them, leaving them tempered and shaped by the time spent there. And though he couldn't point to the single moment when he knew that he couldn't live without her, it had been true from the day he met her.

His thoughts had left him far from sleep, and at some point along the way his eyes had cracked open, staring blankly at the near wall. When he shut them again, a small pang of guilt struck him as he remembered that Sharon was walking alone to her shift while he lay there daydreaming.

He tried shifting positions, to find something more comfortable. Kara had once accused him of being able to fall asleep anywhere at anytime, and considering some of the places he had slept in the last three years, it was hard to argue. But he suddenly found little appeal in the half-empty bed.

With a sigh he pulled back the covers and gave up, sure that he would pay for his lack of sleep later. He only hoped that this day would be less interesting than the last.

-----

Walking into the CIC thirty minutes before his shift started, Helo immediately regretted his decision to leave the gym early. Holding a handset to his ear, Tigh followed him with a single accusing eye as he approached the center console.

"Morning, Gaeta," Helo said as he stepped down into the heart of the room.

"Good morning, Captain."

Tigh kept his eye on Helo as he spoke into the handset. "Yeah, he just walked in. You wanna talk to him? Alright, I'll send him down." The colonel hung up and stared up at the empty DRADIS. "Admiral wants to see you, ASAP."

"What is it, sir?" Helo asked.

The colonel's eyes snapped back down. "Just do what you're told, Captain. Dismissed."

Biting his tongue, Helo saluted sharply, and headed out of the CIC.

Making his way toward the admiral's quarters, his mind raced with the possible reasons for the summons, and none of the ones he came up with were good. Good news was always made public by the admiral, bad news never so; bad news was reserved for private places and times, and never spoken over a handset.

He picked up his pace slightly as the worst possibilities came to his mind, but then slowed down as he thought about it some more. There were a dozen reasons the admiral might want privacy, and not all of them were bad. It hadn't been bad news the last time he had been called to see the admiral, the day the old-man had given his blessing for him to marry Sharon. 

Helo rapped twice on the door to the admiral's quarters, and he was quickly called to come in. Opening the hatch he found that he was not alone with the old-man; a woman he recognized but could not place sat on the couch. Her olive complexion and sharp features were noteworthy, but it was her clothes that set her apart from the average civilian he had met. He wasn't a fashion expert, but he knew the rich blue and black ensemble she wore would fetch a small fortune on the black market. And it wasn't just what she wore, but how she wore it, confident and sure.

"Captain Agathon, I don't know if you've met Tory Foster," the admiral said, standing in front of his desk. "She's the president's senior aid."

Helo nodded once at the woman in acknowledgment. "Hello Ms. Foster."

"Captain," she greeted, eyeing him over briefly then looking back to the admiral. "Of course you realize sir, that I'm not here to speak with Captain Agathon." 

Helo was unsure what to make of the scene, but he could see the telltale signs of agitation in the admiral's stance, even as he remained expressionless. "We're trying to find Lieutenant Agathon. She'll be here momentarily to answer your questions." 

The president's aid looked back at Helo, this time spending a bit longer in judging him before speaking. "Your presence isn't necessary, Captain. Thank you for your time."

"Wait, what?" he asked, still trying to get a grasp on the situation. The mention of Sharon had moved his point of view on the conversation from observer to involved participant. "What's going on?"

The admiral's eyes were still on Foster, and Helo could see that he had entered the middle of a debate, not joined the start of one.

"As you know, Ms. Foster," the admiral began slowly, keeping all emotion from his tone. "The president and I disagree strongly on this issue, as strongly as possible. Only with serious reservations, I have ceded to the president's authority on this. Captain Agathon will stay."

"I understand, admiral," Foster replied. "But it might be advantageous if we were to question them separately. They might be able to-"

"This is my ship," the admiral said, cutting her off. "They are officers under my command, and my protection. I will not have them interrogated like criminals, regardless of the urgency of the situation."

"Sir," Helo interjected desperately, the admiral's words filling him with dread. "What is going on?"

The admiral looked over at him, his expression softening. "Captain, have you had a chance to review the questions-"

Foster cut off the admiral before he could finish. "I'm here from the president to get answers regarding the child. We need them now."

Realization came quickly as he recalled the folder thrown into his nightstand, and his discussion with the admiral regarding it. He shook his head slowly as he looked at the Foster. "This isn't necessary, you don't need to do this."

"Frankly, Captain, you're in no position to know what is or isn't necessary." Foster looked back to the admiral. "Admiral, with all due respect, the president was under the impression that I would be able to question the Cylon directly regarding the child."

"The Lieutenant will be here any moment," the admiral replied, exuding a calmness that Helo himself felt evaporating as he stood and listened to this woman.

"Wait," Helo said again, desperate to slow down the conversation flying by him. "What's going on? What aren't you telling me?"

"Mr. Agathon, I'm afraid it's not necessary for you to understand," Foster said remaining dispassionate. "My questions regarding the child are for-"

"Listen to me," Helo growled, his frustrations finally boiling over. "It's not _the child_, got it? When you talk to me, it's _Hera_, or if you prefer, _your daughter_. But when you talk to me, it's not _the child_. Got it?"

The sudden ferocity of his reaction caught Foster off guard for a moment, but she quickly recovered. 

"Mr. Agathon," she began calmly. "Please remember, that the president suffers the presence of your wife only because-" 

"Suffers?" he repeated in disbelief. "She saved your ass off of New Caprica! Not to mention-"

"She suffers her presence only because of the value she has as an intelligence and military asset." Foster lifted up a folder, identical to the one sitting in his nightstand. "You wife has an opportunity to prove her loyalty by answering these questions. However if she refuses-" 

"Stop," the admiral commanded loudly. The phone on his desk rang once. "Both of you."

_Captain Agathon please report immediately to-_

"She hasn't refused anything," Helo spat back, ignoring the sound of his name over the intercom. The phone rang again, and the admiral picked it up. "But after hearing this I think she should," Helo added.

_Admiral Adama please come to-_

"If she refuses to answer these questions," Foster continued, "Then the president will have no qualms putting her back in the cell she belongs in."

He didn't know or care if the threat was an idle one, or if they were mere words from a person who made a living manipulating them. In a heartbeat he was across the room and in her face.

But before he could speak, the admiral grabbed his arm.

"Helo..." The admiral's voice trailed off, his eyes staring blankly ahead. Helo looked back over the admiral's shoulder to see the handset hanging from its cord, sounds of chaos coming from the other end of the line. A myriad of voices were calling out unintelligibly, heavy footsteps echoing from the receiver, and finally a cry of pain.

A cry of pain from Sharon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Home**  
**Author:** JPBryant  
**Characters:** Sharon/Helo  
**Rating:** Mature, for descriptions of violence, language and sexual situations.  
**Spoilers:** Through 'A Measure of Salvation", everything after that is AU.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
**Summary:** Helo is forced to take drastic measures to protect his family after a series of events aboard Galactica open his eyes to the reality he and Sharon face. Set after "A Measure of Salvation", it goes completely AU after that.  
**A/N:** The third of seventeen chapters to the story, I'll be posting them as I finish them. Thanks to wintergreen126, jazmin22, and honibrownhateza for beta'ing this story.

**Chapter 3**

_Please Gods no..._

His lungs burned from exertion as he flew down the corridor, crashing through and past anyone unable to get out of his way. The sound of her scream echoed in his mind, growing louder and more desperate as each second passed, driving him faster towards the infirmary.

"Move!" he shouted as he ran, the crowded hallway parting before him, and a wake of confused onlookers left behind him.

Running at full speed, he could hear the admiral's words mixing with her screams, and his panic grew.

_Please Gods, please no..._

Making the last turn into the infirmary, he could hear the voice of Cottle barking orders to the nurses and monitors beeping frantically. But the sight was too much for his mind to process.

Blood.

Too much blood.

_Oh Gods, no..._

Blood on the floor, on the sheets, and on the nurses that worked on her still form. Sharon was pale, unmoving, the color in her face and lips drained of life.

"No," he cried, rushing towards her. A pair of arms wrapped around and held him tight before he could reach the bed on which she lay.

"No, Captain," the chief said, his voice straining as he tried to hold back the larger man. "Let them help her!"

Looking down, he saw the chiefs orange jumpsuit was painted in the same shade of red as everything else. And now her blood was on him as well, transferred from the chiefs clothing to his.

"Sharon," he called out, looking back to his wife. But she still made no motion. He struggled against the chief to reach her to no avail.

"Look at me, Captain," the chief yelled. "Look at me! She's alive, but you have to let them help her!" 

_Alive._

"Alive," he repeated, the word stopping him, the realization slowing his effort to get out of the other man's grasp.

"Yes, alive," the chief said, his grip on Helo slowly lessening. When Helo ceased fighting him completely, the chief let his head collapse against Helo's shoulder. "Gods, Captain, I'm sorry."

Helo's eyes stayed on his wife, a mere ten meters away, and watched as Cottle and the nurses continued to work on her. Standing there helplessly, he felt the adrenaline slowly seeping from his system, the loss of the hormone threatening to send his body to the floor. "What...what happened?"

"I...I don't know," the chief replied, pulling away and averting his eyes. "She didn't make a sound. I found her on the deck..." The chief closed his eyes and lowered his head, unable to continue.

"What happened?" Helo repeated, grabbing Tyrol's arm and shaking him. "Tell me!"

"She was lying there. I thought she was dead," the chief managed, his expression pained. "Someone...someone tried to kill her."

Helo shook his head. "No," he said, the truth too much for him. 

"Someone put a knife in her, Captain," Tyrol said through clenched teeth, anger overtaking him for a brief moment before it gave way back to his guilt. The chief's eyes searched the floor, unfocused. "I thought she was dead, but then she reached out to me, and I..."

The chief couldn't finish the sentence, but Helo didn't need him to. The blood on Tyrol's clothes told the rest of the story; told Helo that the chief had carried Sharon here himself. There was a pain in the chief's eyes, a private pain that he tried to hide, but Helo's heart had no time for it.

"Captain," Cottle said, stepping away from the crowd surrounding his wife. 

Helo took a step towards him, his eyes moving between Cottle and Sharon. "Doc, Please…" he said, the rest of the question stuck in his throat.

"Your wife's a lucky lady," Cottle replied, snapping off his surgical gloves and tossing them onto the floor as he approached. "For someone who's been stabbed three times."

"No…" Helo whispered, shutting his eyes as anguish rolled over him. "Tell me she's okay."

"No, she's not okay. But if her luck holds up, she will be." The doctor pushed his hands into the pockets of his white jacket and looked back at Sharon. "She's lost a lot of blood, but we got to her in time and managed to stop it. I still need to wait for the scans to get back, but it looks like nothing vital was hit."

Helo nodded numbly as he listened to the doctor speak, keeping his eyes on Sharon.

"Like I said," Cottle continued "She lost a lot of blood, but we've stopped the bleeding, and we're closing up the last wound now. I've given her some human plasma to help make up for the loss. It's not as good as the stuff she normally has pumping through her veins, but it'll keep her alive."

"Gods…" Helo said quietly, the doctor's words tearing through him. He watched as two nurses still tended to her, appearing poised and steady to his untrained eye. On the ground he recognized the tattered remains of her flight suit, cut away from her body, and soaked in blood.

"My number once concern is that there's internal bleeding we can't see yet," Cottle continued, turning to join Helo in looking at Sharon. "But for now, all we can do is wait." 

The chief placed a hand on Helo's shoulder, squeezing tightly. "It's gonna be okay, Captain, Doc will take care of her."

Helo didn't reply, finding no comfort in the chief's words.

As obvious as it was that the doctor was doing everything he could to keep her alive, he couldn't push away the feeling that he had been here before, listening to the gray-haired man tell him that someone he loved would be all right, only for his world to fall apart in the blink of an eye. He would never forget the last time he had seen his daughter alive, sleeping peacefully with the ship's doctor staring down at her through the glass.

He glanced down at the old doctor and could see the concern in Cottle's eyes. A small wave of guilt passed through Helo for blaming this man who had tried to do so much for his family. Looking back at Sharon, he knew she was only alive because of him. 

"Doctor, I..." Helo started. He opened his mouth to try and find the words again, but the entrance of Admiral Adama and his son cut him short.

"How is she?" the admiral asked Cottle, his eyes joining everyone else's on Sharon.

"She should make it," Cottle replied.

"So someone finally tried it," Lee said muttered quietly to himself, shaking his head. "I'm surprised it took this long."

Helo felt his fist crash into Lee's face with a loud crack, snapping the other man's head back sharply. Tumbling backward, Lee blindly threw out a hand to stop his fall, catching a cart of surgical instruments and bringing them with him as he crashed to the floor. In an instant, the room was in chaos once again, people rushing to stop Helo and help the CAG. 

"You wanted this!" Helo roared, his emotions surging into a blinding rage. A tangle of hands and arms held him back as he tried to get to Lee. "You put her down there! You knew this would happen!"

Lee struggled to get off the ground, blood dripping profusely from his nose and lip. His eyes were unfocused and his balance unsteady as he pulled himself up. "You're frakking insane, Agathon," Lee spat out. His father was beside him now, taking Lee's arm to steady him, but Lee pulled his arm away quickly, shunning the support and leveling his gaze at Helo. "Did you really think this would work?"

"She's your pilot, Lee! She was on your watch, and you let this happen!" The chief and two nurses continued to hold Helo in place, but he no longer struggled against them. He pointed an accusing finger at the CAG. "You wanted this to happen!"

"I didn't want this!" Lee shot back, wiping the blood from his nose with his sleeve. "But this is reality, Karl. How did you think this would end? Did you think that this would never happen? Do you think it won't happen again? She's a frakking Cylon, Karl!"

"Frak you!" Helo snarled. "She's one of us!"

"She's not one of us, Karl!" Lee answered, matching Helo's intensity. "She'll never be one of us! Don't you get it?"

"Enough!" the admiral shouted, his voice filling the room.

Helo's nostrils flared as his breath came out in ragged bursts, every muscle in his body standing on edge. The hands holding him back slowly let go, with the chief having maneuvered himself between the two men, acting as a buffer. A steadily beeping monitor in the background joined the sound of his pulse pounding in his ears, and then a voice spoke through the silence.

"Helo," Sharon called weakly. 

The sound of her voice grabbed hold of him. He looked to see her eyes shut tightly, her mouth twisted in a grimace of pain. In an instant he was by her side, standing at the top of the bed while two nurses finished suturing the last wound. Blood had dried in haphazard, erratic streaks across her chest and torso.

He reached out to take one of her bloody hands, the edges of her fingernails encrusted in dark crimson.

"I'm here," he said, squeezing her hand. "I'm here, Sharon."

Her eyes were full of confusion as she looked around, clearly unaware where she was, or what was happening. She glanced down to see what was being done, and the confusion transformed into panic. Without warning she grabbed at Helo, the energy and force of the motion surprising him as she tried to pull herself off the bed. "Helo, don't let them touch me," she cried. With her other arm she pushed at the hands finishing the last sutures. "Please, don't let them touch me," she begged.

Lost by her reaction, Helo looked helplessly at his wife. "Sharon, they're trying to help," he urged, leaning over and pressing his forehead to her temple as he grabbed the hand that was fighting off the nurses. "Don't fight, Sharon," he whispered, trying to get her under control.

"No, don't let them, Helo," she pleaded, now struggling to free her hands from his. Her eyes came up to meet his, and all he could see was fear and panic. "Don't leave me here, Helo."

He pulled her hands close, holding them tightly. "I'm not going anywhere, I prom-"

"Don't leave me here," she cried again, her eyes pleading with him. Her hands stopped trying to escape his, and instead reached up to try and take him in her arms. "Take me home, Helo."

His feeling of helplessness grew as he heard the need in her voice. "Sharon, you're hurt," he said, his voice breaking as he denied her. "I can't do that."

Her hands were on his sleeves now, trying once more to pull herself out of the bed. "Please, Helo," she begged, her voice irrational with fear, a tear falling from her eye as she continued to try and force herself into his arms.

He crouched beside her, letting her wrap her arms around his neck. Looking across her pale body, he could see the blue sutures that held her together, stained with blood that seeped from the wounds. The rest of the room watched them as she cried silently into his shoulder.

"Take me home," she whispered between sobs.

Helo closed his eyes, unable to deny her any longer. He could feel her cold skin under his fingers and her tears on his neck. Swallowing hard past the lump in his throat, he stood slowly.

"Okay," he whispered back. Wrapping the blood-stained sheet over her body, he slipped his arms gently under her. "Okay, let's go."

"What are you doing?" Cottle asked from over his shoulder.

"Are you ready?" he asked softly. She nodded as he positioned himself to lift her from the bed. "Keep your arms around my neck, Sharon. Here we go."

As carefully as he could, he picked her up off the bed, a sharp hiss escaping her lips as he did so. He waited for the pain to subside and for her breath to steady before continuing. After she took a few even breaths, he turned gently and took a step towards the door.

Cottle moved directly into his path, standing between them and the exit. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Cottle asked in shock. "Put her down this instant!"

Helo didn't move. Moments ago he had been torn between her need to leave and his belief that she needed to stay. But her need overpowered his better judgment, and it was no longer a question.

"I'm taking her to our quarters," Helo said calmly. "She doesn't want to be here."

Cottle shook his head and pointed back to the bed authoritatively. "Put her back down," he demanded. "I can't help her if you take her out of here."

Helo looked at the old doctor, and shook his head.

"Are you going to help her the way you helped Hera?"

The words struck Cottle, causing him to flinch visibly. Helo took the opening and pushed by the doctor, heading towards the door. In his peripheral vision he could see the admiral and the chief watching, but neither of them made a move to intercede, and a second later he was out the door with her in his arms.

------

"Everything's going to be okay," he told her as he made his way to their quarters. She nodded slightly, her breathing shallow and uneven.

People stared in shock at the site of the XO carrying his wife down the hall in a bloody sheet, but his mind was focused solely on getting her home. He walked slowly, trying to insulate her from any additional pain. She had tried at first to hide her misery from him, but by the time they reached their quarters she was simply holding her breath, her face buried against his chest, her eyes shut tight.

Crossing the threshold, he carried her to the bed and set her down gently upon it. Her eyes remained closed as he carefully slid the stained sheet out from under her and pulled the bed cover over. Steeling himself, he knelt down to examine her wounds, and found all three had re-opened. He grimaced as he counted half-a-dozen sutures that had opened from the long walk.

He stood up to go find something to staunch the trickle of blood, but she grabbed his wrist before he could walk away. She looked up at him through dark eyes, but didn't say a word.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sharon," he comforted her. Taking her hand he gently placed it back on the bed. "I'm right here."

She closed her eyes once more, her breath steadier than before. But the sight of her pale body against the familiar dark sheets of their bed sent him quickly back to his task. Opening his locker, he grabbed his clean tanks and came back, pressing the cloth lightly against her wounds to soak up the blood that seeped through. Checking and rechecking the sutures, he could see they would need to be re-sewn, and tried to figure out how it could be done.

Unsure what else to do, he sat beside her silently, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath. And before long she was asleep, her eyes moving quickly beneath their lids. He wondered what she dreamt of on a morning like this, and wished he could join her wherever she was.

He looked at his watch and saw it had been less than thirty minutes since he had walked into the CIC. His shift was just about to start.

Walking to the bathroom, he stared into the mirror. The lower half of his jacket was stained dark from her blood, and small trails of red streaked his neck and hands. Pulling off the jacket, he dropped it to the floor, and then washed the rest of the blood from his body. When he finished, he pulled his towel from the rack and wet it before stepping back into the room.

Sitting back down beside her, he started with her hands, wiping away the red that stained her olive skin. As he did so, he could see the moment in his mind. He could picture her lying on the flight deck, trying to stop the flow of blood with her bare hands, watching as her life poured onto the ground.

He moved to her torso and stomach, gently dabbing away the blood that had pooled in her navel, then to her legs, where it had seeped the flight suit, which now sat in tatters in the infirmary. He wondered if she would ever need, or even want, another one.

He went back to the sink three times to rinse out the red-stained towel, and through it all, she slept. When he finally finished cleaning her, he stood up to return to the sink one last time. But as he did so, he noticed something he had missed; a single red fingerprint standing out on her brass dog tags, a perfect outline of her perfect, delicate finger tip.

-----

A knock on the door woke him from his light sleep. He lifted his head off the floor and stretched his aching muscles, working out a small cramp in his thigh. Rising to his feet in the darkness, another knock rang through the room as he looked down to check on Sharon.

She was still asleep, as she had been most of the day except for a few minutes here and there. He listened carefully for the sound of her breath and heard it, even and regular. Peering down at his watch he was surprised to see how late it was, the extended passage of time explaining the stiffness in his joints; he had only meant to sleep for fifteen minutes.

Again, a knock echoed through the room. He hadn't bothered to see who the last few visitors were, tired of sending friends away. Though they all came with good intentions and well wishes, neither Sharon nor he needed or wanted the additional company.

He had no intention of answering the door this time either, but this visitor was persistent, banging on the hatch again, and startling Sharon in her sleep.. Walking over he cracked the door, expecting to find Racetrack returning for the third time, not the man who stood before him.

"May I come in?" Cottle asked after a few seconds passed in silence, the two men staring at one another. 

"She's asleep," Helo replied, making no move to open the door.

Cottle lifted his black medical bag. "I didn't pack this thing and walk all the way down here for the exercise, Captain."

Helo glanced over his shoulder at Sharon, stirring in their bed, then back at Cottle.

"Listen to me, Captain," Cottle said insistently, locking eyes with Helo. "I want to help. I want to help you protect your family. Now open the Gods damned door and let me in."

Reluctantly, Helo opened the hatch and let the doctor step into the darkened room. Resigned to the man's presence, Helo reached over to the wall and turned on the lights.

Sharon lifted a hand to shade her eyes, turning her head to the door to see who had entered. Seeing Doctor Cottle, she eyed him warily, then looked to Helo for reassurance, but he had none to offer. Earlier in the day she had begged him to take her away from this man, and now he was here in their home.

"How are you feeling?" Cottle asked, setting his bag down on the nightstand. 

Sharon didn't reply as the doctor reached out a hand and placed it on her forehead, keeping the silence she had held since she had been brought back to their quarters. Helo could see she was uncomfortable with the other man's contact, but Cottle seemed unconcerned.

"Any fever?" he asked her. "Nausea?" 

"No," Helo replied for her.

"Has she eaten anything?" Cottle asked, turning to Helo.

"No," he repeated.

The doctor moved his hand down to Sharon's, placing two fingers in her grip. "Squeeze as hard as you can, Lieutenant."

She did as he asked, and he shook his head. 

"You can do better than that," Cottle chided. "I've felt those hands around my neck, I know what kind of grip you have." The doctor nodded as she tried again. "Okay, that's better." 

"What about the scans, Doc?" Helo asked nervously. He had spent the day worrying that something out of his sight might threaten Sharon.

"The scans are fine," Cottle said, his eyes staying on Sharon. "I'd like the check your sutures, Lieutenant. Is that okay?"

Sharon nodded slightly and closed her eyes as Cottle folded back the blanket. He handed Helo the makeshift cloth bandages as he removed them, and let out a small sigh as he examined the wounds. The doctor looked over at Helo.

"These need to be redone," Cottle said. "Will you let me?"

Helo let out a long, slow breath, knowing the doctor was right. "Yeah, that's fine."

Dragging the lone chair in the room to the side of the bed, Cottle sat down and lifted his bag into his lap. Sharon opened her eyes slightly to watch the doctor's hands as he opened his bag and removed a small surgical kit. Taking a spot beside her, Helo knelt and took her hand, turning to look as the doctor cut the first loose suture free from her body and began to work.

And as Helo watched the old man care for Sharon, he couldn't hold back a small pang of guilt for the way he felt about the man. He had come alone to their quarters, in the middle of night to check on Sharon, a Cylon, knowing his only reward would be accusing stares and suspicion.

"Thanks, Doc," Helo said quietly, watching as Cottle gently removed another suture.

"My ex-wife and I had four kids," Cottle said, glancing up at Sharon and ignoring Helo's gratitude. The new topic wasn't one Helo particularly liked; people who brought up their past lives with Sharon often expected an apology, and always left without one. "Me, with four kids. Who would have guessed?"

Sharon's eyes stayed on Cottle, curious, but without emotion.

Cottle smiled to himself as he gently pressed a gauze bandage against one of the wounds. "You wouldn't believe how many times I had to patch them up after they did something stupid. Nothing like this of course. Nothing compared to the kind of stuff you see on a Battlestar." The doctor stopped his work to look up at Sharon. "But I'll bet I remember every time they scraped a knee or stepped on a piece of glass."

Helo didn't know what to make of the doctor's idle chatter, but Sharon's interest seemed to be growing by the second. Though she still remained expressionless, Helo saw it now required effort on her part to do so, a series of conflicting emotions flashing then vanishing behind her eyes.

"You think you can protect them," Cottle continued, shaking his head as he returned to the sutures. "You do everything you can to protect them. You tell them to wear their coat. Don't play with matches. Stop dating the creep on the pyramid team. The list never ends, and you never stop worrying."

Covering a set of sutures with a fresh bandage, Cottle continued to speak. Beside him, Sharon's breathing quickened.

"None of it matters though. None of it. Because it's the things you can't know that you need to worry about. And you know that." Cottle paused, his eyes coming up to Sharon's once again. "But even though you know you can't protect them from everything, you'll try anyways. That's normal."

Helo watched as Sharon's expression shifted, her eyes filling with life as she listened to the doctor speak. She squeezed Helo's hand tightly once, then twice. Her eyes came up to his full of hope, then looked back at Cottle. Something passed unspoken between her and the other man, and Sharon's grip on Helo's hand became iron tight. 

"Tell me," she said quietly, hanging desperately on Cottle's words. "Tell me."

Cottle closed his eyes briefly, then offered a small smile. "From what I saw on the scans, your child is fine."

Helo nodded once, before the words had registered.

_Your child is fine._

Sharon shut her eyes tightly, tilting her head back in overwhelming relief. But the reaction barely registered with Helo. He looked down at his wife, unable to feel her hand holding his, unable to see her lips move in silent prayer. She opened her eyes and looked up at him through dark eyes, her sickly complexion contrasting with the joy dancing in her eyes. Seeing his confusion, she placed a second hand on his and waited for him.

"Sharon?" he managed.

She shook her head slowly and looked down to where their hands met and intertwined. "I wanted this time to be different than last." 

Helo's chest tightened, the shock taking hold of his body. "Sharon..."

"I wanted you to be happy," she said, returning her eyes to his and smiling weakly. "I wanted to see you smile when I told you."

"No," he said in disbelief, her words failing to reach him as his mind sorted through a thousand thoughts at once.

It wasn't possible, that's what they had been told. There had been too much damage done during Hera's birth; their dead child would be the only one Sharon would ever have. He could remember the day Cottle had told them.

But Cottle was here. Cottle had said the words.

_Your child is fine._

And before his mind could say the words again, he knew it was true, and the meaning of the strange night before became clear.

"My Gods..."

He looked at his wife, broken and weak, smiling up at him through pale lips, and thought of the child that grew inside her. He thought about Hera, and the first time Sharon had given birth, and how it had nearly killed her.

"Sharon," he whispered, leaning over to press his cheek against hers, running a hand gently through her hair.

"Be happy, Helo," she whispered back, wrapping a single arm lightly around him.

"I am," he said, realizing in that instant that it was true. Despite the emotions of fear and worry flooding through him, it was joy, a joy he shared with her, one that overpowered everything else. "Gods I am, Sharon."

He sat up, just far enough to look at her, and smiled. Seeing him do so, she laughed once as she tried to hold back her tears, and his smile widened.

Hera had been a miracle. This child was beyond that, another chance to fulfill their dreams.

Helo reached down to wipe away the tear gathering at the corner of her eye. She mirrored his motion, reaching up to cup his cheek in her hand. Their smiles grew as they stared into each others eyes, oblivious to everything else, until a small sound behind him stole Sharon's attention. Turning to look, Helo saw the doctor still standing beside them, all but forgotten

Standing up slowly, Helo looked over at the man that had brought them the news. Years of built up animosity melted away as he reached out his hand to take Cottle's. Hesitantly, the old doctor placed his hand in Helo's, but when he did, Helo pulled him into a tight embrace, the power of the moment overtaking him.

"Thank you, Doctor," Helo said, hugging the man tightly. "Thank you."

When Helo finally released him, the doctor stared at the ground, seemingly taken aback by the sudden change in demeanor towards him. He shifted uncomfortably, his eyes moving between Helo and Sharon, till they stopped somewhere in between, unable to meet the gaze of either.

"I haven't told anyone else, I'll leave that up to you two," he said quietly. Turning to face Helo, Cottle's eyes stayed down, focusing on a spot on Helo's chest, still avoiding his eyes. "I didn't kill your daughter."

"I know," Helo said, knowing he had wronged this man. "I'm sorry."

Cottle paused, looking as if he had more to say, but turned away before he said another word. Picking up his bag, he began to collect his belongings.

Helo turned back to the bed, and took a seat beside her. Sharon's eyes shined with life despite the ordeals of the day. Lifting the blanket, he examined her fresh dressings, though she seemed unconcerned with her injuries. He set the blanket back down and leaned over, sharing a small kiss with her.

In the background he was vaguely aware of Cottle heading for the door, but all he could see was Sharon.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Good," she replied weakly, the smile never fading from her lips.

"Yeah?" he asked, kissing her once again. 

"Yeah," she whispered.

Helo heard the hatch open and close, but something was out of place. He knew without looking that Cottle had yet to leave the room. He glanced towards the exit to see the doctor standing there, black bag still in hand as he faced the wall and stared at the ground.

"I didn't kill your daughter," Cottle said.

The words, repeated for the second time, sent a chill down Helo's spine.

Keeping his eyes on the floor, Cottle turned to face them. "She didn't die on my watch, or even aboard this ship."


	4. Chapter 4

**Home**  
**Author:** JPBryant  
**Characters:** Sharon/Helo  
**Rating:** Mature, for descriptions of violence, language and sexual situations.  
**Spoilers:** Through 'A Measure of Salvation", everything after that is AU.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
**Summary:** Helo is forced to take drastic measures to protect his family after a series of events aboard Galactica open his eyes to the reality he and Sharon face. Set after "A Measure of Salvation", it goes completely AU after that.  
**A/N:** The fourth of seventeen chapters to the story, I'll be posting them as I finish them. Thanks to wintergreen126, jazmin22, and honibrownhateza for beta'ing this story.

**Chapter 4**

A button on his sleeve dug into his forehead, but he made no effort to relieve the discomfort. Staring at the steel floor, knees pressed to his chest, head resting on his folded arms, he felt his body tremble. He couldn't remember Cottle leaving, but the silence in the room told him that the man was no longer there.

He hated the knowledge.

The knowledge wouldn't bring his daughter back; she was as dead as she had been before, left to die on New Caprica.

Helo lifted his head and looked across the room at Sharon, her expression unchanged. She stared blankly at the ceiling, her thoughts hidden completely from him. He had seen the look once before, and now Hera had died. Again. But this time it hadn't been fate or the Gods that taken their baby from them. It had been his own people.

She hadn't shed a tear as Cottle told the story, and neither had he; it had taken every ounce of his willpower to keep from killing the man. But while he had questioned the doctor, she had slid away, an iron wall lifting around her. Watching her now, he could see the wall closing, shutting him out along with everything else.

He couldn't do it again.

He couldn't go through Hera dying again. Losing Hera had destroyed him, but it was losing Sharon afterwards that had nearly driven him mad. It had taken months for her to even look at him again, never mind speak his name. And now he could feel it happening all over again.

Pushing himself off the floor, he paced across the room. Her eyes didn't move from the ceiling as he walked by her then back again. He resisted the urge to rip his locker off the wall and throw it to the floor.

She had blamed his people for Hera's death, and he had defended them. He told her they would never do it, and he said it because he believed it. But he had been wrong. They had killed her, in their own way; leaving her to die on that Gods forsaken rock.

They had sent him into space with a canister of paper ashes, and he had cried over them. He had never let Sharon see him cry over Hera, always keeping a brave face. But he had cried over those ashes.

He looked back at Sharon's, ashen and expressionless, and thought of the tiny child growing inside her. He had failed so many times to protect her, to protect his family. He had done everything he could and it wasn't enough.

----- 

Helo's fist pounded against the hatch of the admiral's quarters, each blow hard enough to threaten the integrity of the bones in his hand. The sound of his effort echoed down the hallway, drawing stares from everyone who passed by. It had only take him a few minutes to make his way from their quarters to the admiral's, and though he hadn't wanted to leave Sharon's side, he didn't intend to stay long.

The admiral opened the door, dressed in his uniform despite the late hour. He gestured to for Helo to enter. 

"Come in," the admiral said, showing no sign of surprise at Helo's arrival.

"That won't be necessary," Helo replied. "I only have only one question, sir."

"No." The admiral turned around and walked into his room. "We need to talk."

Helo didn't follow immediately. He didn't want to be around this man, he didn't want to hear this man's voice. All he wanted was one answer, but the admiral showed no signs of letting it end so easily. His anger growing, Helo stepped into the room.

"I wanted to come down and see her," the admiral said as he took a seat on his couch. "But I heard you were turning away visitors. How is she?"

The muscles in Helo's neck grew taught as he fought the urge to lash out.

"You don't get to ask that," Helo replied, trying to remain calm.

He had come to see the admiral as a father to Sharon, caring and protecting for her as if she were his own. But now he didn't recognize the man in front him. Sharon would survive the attack from earlier in the day; what was questionable, though, was whether she would recover from the wounds this man helped inflict.

The admiral removed his glasses, setting them down on the coffee table. "Cottle informed me that he would tell you," he said, keeping his eyes from Helo. "I didn't stop him."

"Do you expect credit for that?" Helo asked, shaking his head in disgust. "You could have told us yourself."

The admiral lifted a glass of water from the table, cradling it in both hands as he stared into it. "I didn't know, until very recently, what had happened to your daughter."

"But you knew," Helo stated flatly, giving no quarter.

The admiral didn't reply for a moment, shifting the glass from one hand to another.

"I knew," the old man said finally. "The president felt that-"

"I don't care," Helo said, cutting him short. He hadn't come for excuses. Excuses wouldn't bring his daughter back, nothing would. All he wanted now was an answer, so he could leave before he lost control. "I just need you to answer one question for me, sir."

"The president felt that secrecy was of the utmost importance," the admiral continued, looking up at Helo for the first time since he sat down. "I disagreed strongly, and argued on your behalf. But Laura Roslin is the president. The final decision was hers."

Helo turned his back on the admiral, barely able to keep his rage inside. He had spent a year as the admiral's XO, and in that time, he had come to respect this man like no one else in his life. Now all he could see was the man that had helped steal his daughter, destroy his family.

"I thought I knew you," Helo said quietly, closing his eyes. "Gods I trusted you."

The admiral rose from couch.

"Sometimes tough decisions have to be made, Captain." The admiral paused, setting his glass back down on the table. "Decisions that affect the lives of innocent people. You know that."

Fighting off the deluge of anger, Helo turned back to the face the old-man. The admiral's words had reminded Helo why he had come, and the innocent life he would do anything to protect.

"Would you do it again?" Helo asked, locking eyes with the admiral.

"I can't answer that," the admiral replied. But Helo persisted.

"If you could go back, and stop it from happening, would you?" He watched the admiral's eyes closely, needing to know. "Would you let the president take our child?"

"I didn't let her take your child." The admiral replied angrily. "And I don't deal in hypotheticals, Captain."

"This is my only question, Admiral," Helo shot back, desperate for the answer. "Tell me, and we'll never discuss this again."

The admiral's gaze yielded to Helo's and he turned away, shaking his head. "Captain..."

"I need to know," Helo insisted, his voice rising in volume. "Tell me."

The admiral stood in place, his eyes shifting from the floor as he though, then up to Helo as he answered the question. 

"Would I put the needs of a single child and her parents before the needs of humanity?" The admiral shook his head. "No." 

The answer knocked the wind from Helo, leaving him unable to breathe. He nodded his understanding as he tried to swallow past the knot in his throat.

The admiral had made his decision, and so had Helo.

"Thank you, sir," Helo said, his voice catching on the words as he saluted crisply.

"Captain, listen to me," the admiral said, turning away. "I'm not going to..." 

The admiral stopped as Helo opened the hatch and let himself out of the room. Helo didn't care about what else the man had to say; he had heard what he needed to. Now he needed to be with his wife and unborn child.

He walked back to their quarters and opened the door to find her staring at the same point on the ceiling she had been looking at when he left. Her dry eyes were dull, her expression blank. He made his way quickly to the bed and sat down beside her, taking her hand in his.

He would not lose her again. He would not lose his child again.

"Sharon," he said, squeezing her hand. She didn't react, so he squeezed harder. "Sharon, look at me," he insisted, letting his anger into his voice.

She tried to turn away, closing her eyes, but he wouldn't let her.

"Look at me," he ordered loudly, unrelenting in his need for him to hear him. She turned slowly to face him, her empty eyes meeting his. He kept the fire in his voice, hoping it would reignite her own.

"We're leaving, Sharon. Do you hear me?" he asked forcefully. "We're leaving."

She blinked. And as the realization of his meaning reached her, he saw the spark he wanted, the tiniest fraction of emotion flickering behind her eyes. He watches as the fire took light, and squeezed her hand again, to let her know it was true.

"You, and me, and our baby….we're leaving," he said. She nodded slowly as he spoke, a flood of emotions returning to her face. He mirrored her, nodding back. "We're going home, Sharon."


	5. Chapter 5

**Home**  
**Author:** JPBryant  
**Characters:** Sharon/Helo  
**Rating:** Mature, for descriptions of violence, language and sexual situations.  
**Spoilers:** Through 'A Measure of Salvation", everything after that is AU.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
**Summary:** Helo is forced to take drastic measures to protect his family after a series of events aboard Galactica open his eyes to the reality he and Sharon face. Set after "A Measure of Salvation", it goes completely AU after that.  
**A/N:** The fifth of seventeen chapters to the story, I'll be posting them as I finish them. Thanks to wintergreen126, jazmin22, and honibrownhateza for beta'ing this story.

**Chapter 5**

"What about here?" Helo pointed at a small mountain range on the map in front of him.

"No," Anders said, shaking his head. The two men sat alone in the empty meeting room, leaning over the table as they studied the map. "You wanna be high, but not that high. It'll be too cold this time of year for anyone to do anything but eat, sleep and piss."

"It gets that cold?" Helo asked.

"You better believe it," Anders replied, arching an eyebrow.

"I see."

"But you'll definitely want your men above the fallout line if they're going to be staying any length of time." Anders looked up from the map to Helo. "How long did you say they would be staying?"

Helo kept his eyes down, surveying the possibilities. "A long time." 

"I can't believe the Admiral is contemplating this," Anders said, still recovering from the news Helo had brought him. "But if the Cylons really left, I guess we have to go back don't we?"

"I'm was also thinking about this mountain range," Helo said, keeping the subject where he wanted it. He circled a spot on the map. "Here, outside of Delphi."

Anders shook his head again and took the pen from Helo's hand, then circled the metropolises of Caprica. "By the time you pulled us off the planet, there wasn't anywhere to hide within thirty clicks of any major city. If thee Cylons have left a presence anywhere, it'll be around here."

Helo stared down at the dwindling options, hand drawn circles and crosses covering the map, small notes written beside the sites they had ruled out.

"Is there any need to be that close in?" Anders asked.

"They'll need to be completely self-sufficient," Helo answered. "I'm thinking about supplies."

"How many men will be going?"

Helo thought about the answer, trying to find one that would match the rest of his story. He couldn't look Anders in the eye any longer, sure that the other would see through him.

"Between five and ten," he lied, hoping the figure would still allow Anders to analyze the situation correctly.

"You won't a need a big city to keep that many men supplied." Despite Helo's worries, Anders seemed oblivious to any chance that he might be lying to him, a benefit of having never done so before. "I know you and Sharon were on the move most of the time you were down there, but trust me, a mid-size town will have more than enough supplies to keep a group that small going for a long time."

Helo stared down at the map, trying to find a place that might meet all the criteria. Anders did the same, and after a few moments of thoughts he leaned over and circled three more points.

"These are your best bets," Anders said. "They'll be above the two-thousand meter level, so radiation won't be a problem, but low enough where the Caprican winters won't kill whoever you send. They'll have access to a decent amount of supplies, and unless they do an all out search, my guess is that the Cylons will never find them."

Helo looked at the three spots, committing each one to memory. He would let Sharon pick from them tonight. "Thanks Sam," he said as he rolled up the map.

"So, Karl, who's going?" Anders asked as Helo stood up from the table. "I mean, who's crazy enough to volunteer for this?"

"I can't say, Sam," Helo answered, still avoiding the other man's eyes. He picked his pen up off the table and slipped it into his pocket. "Sam, you realize of course, that nobody can know about this."

"No problem, man. I understand." Anders stood up from his chair and rested his hands on his hips. "Just let me know if need any more info." 

Nodding, Helo stepped towards the exit.

"Hey, Karl, wait," Anders called after him. He waited for Helo to turn around before continuing. "You still owe me a drink, man."

"What?" 

"You owe me a drink," Anders repeated. "Or have we reached the statute of limitations on our bet?"

Helo paused as he tried to figure out what Sam was talking about, and an instant later the memory of a long forgotten wager came to his mind. He let out a small chuckle as he recalled the night of drinking on Caprica that had spawned the competition, and now that Sam and Kara were married, there was no doubt he had lost.

"I do, don't I?" he said, smiling at the memory.

"You do," Anders confirmed.

Helo looked back at the other man, trying to remember the details of his face. After all the two men had experienced together, after all the times their lives had intersected, it was possible this was the last time he would ever see Sam Anders.

"Will you take a rain check?" Helo asked. 

Anders crossed his arms over his chest and laughed. "I've waited this long, haven't I?"

Helo smiled back then turned to the exit. "Take care, Sam."

-----

Her breath whistled between her teeth as she took another delicate step, wincing in pain from the shift in weight.

"Take it easy, Sharon," Helo said, holding her arm steady as they made another lap around the residential area of the ship. She didn't reply, ignoring him and taking another step, then another.

It had been two weeks since the day of the attack, and everyday she had pushed herself harder and harder. Too hard in his opinion, but his opinion didn't carry much weight when it came to this.

"I talked to Anders," he said as they moved slowly down the hall. "He thinks we need to stay away from the cities."

Sharon nodded, her lips forming a tight line as she took another step. She stopped for a moment to let out a few controlled breaths, and then started again.

"I've done the calculations," she said, going silent until a crewman walking the other direction passed by them. "We're too far away, just like I thought."

"Are you sure?" he asked. A sideways glance from Sharon was the only answer he got; of course she was sure. She could calculate FTL jumps faster in her mind than a Raptor could, and with more precision as well. "This is going to make things harder," he said, as much to himself as Sharon.

"We don't have a choice," she said between steps. "We'll need one of the long range Raptors.

Helo shook his head as thought about the added problem. The long range Raptors were kept flying nearly twenty-four hours a day, people would notice the absence. "It's going to be hard to pull one off the line," he said

"We don't have a choice," she repeated, making no effort to hide her frustration with him.

"What about Kobol?" he asked. The alternative had come up once before, but Sharon had brushed it aside without serious discussion. "It's closer, and we wont have to-"

"No," she said sharply, surprising him with her vehemence. A bead of sweat that had been collecting on her forehead slid down her cheek. "My child won't be born on that planet."

He closed his eyes as they took another step, trying not to let her words or tone affect him. It was his child too, but when she was angry she forgot such things. 

"Okay, Sharon," he said calmly, taking the last turn to their quarters. "That's enough for today, you need to rest." 

"One more lap," she replied, straining against the pain. Her eyes stayed fixed on a point at the end of the corridor, ignoring the door to their quarters.

"Sharon-"

"One more lap," she insisted, leaving no room for argument as she pressed on. 

"Okay."

He watched as each step she took brought a small wince or grunt of pain, but he knew such minor thing as pain and illness wouldn't stop her. She had a new purpose, a new goal, and nothing would keep her from it. Leaving had become her sole objective, and they couldn't leave until she could walk and move without problem. So everyday she walked, despite the pain from the motion, and despite her sickness from the pregnancy. Everyday she walked to the point of collapse, and everyday she grew angrier that they were still here.

She did her best to keep it under the surface, flashes of her grief and anger only appearing at the edges. But when she failed to contain it, he inevitably bore the brunt of the emotions. He knew she couldn't help it, that she didn't know how to express the pain the consumed her. He only hoped that the days of seeing her smile would return when they reached their new home. 

"I've gotten the rations," he said, still holding her elbow for support as they continued their circuit. "A few months worth at least."

"What about medicine?" she asked, more sweat gathering on her brow.

"It's too soon," he replied. "People will notice it missing."

"It's not too soon," she shot back testily.

"Sharon, listen," he said calmly. "We can't go until you're better. Until then, we don't want to give them any reason to suspect anything, okay?" 

Sharon bit her lower lip hard, her eyes squeezing shut in pain from the most recent step she had taken. She wobbled slightly, and Helo moved closer to keep her upright. Gathering herself, she opened her eyes and looked at Helo.

"Do they need a reason, Helo?" she asked between clenched teeth. "Do they need a reason to do anything to us? All it would take is Cottle telling the president about this baby for them to throw me back in that cage." 

More beads of sweat rolled down her face, the dark circles under her eyes standing out ghoulishly against her olive skin. Helo looked down the corridor to see they still had more than half way to go.

"Let's go back." he said.

"No, I want to finish this lap," she moved to take another step, but he caught her arm tightly before she could move away.

"Sharon," he said softly. "You need to go back."

"Let go of me," she said angrily, ripping her arm away from him.

Grabbing her arms again, he stepped directly into her path. He held her there tightly, waiting gently for her eyes to meet his. When they did, he saw the rage boiling behind her brown eyes, looking for a target. He let the anger slide through him, understanding her need.

"It's me, Sharon," he said quietly, hoping the words still meant something.

She blinked once as he spoke, then closed her eyes as she lowered her head. With a deep breath, she leaned against him, letting him support her weight. She placed her arms around him in silent apology, her forehead resting against his chest.

"Let's go back," she agreed.

"Just rest here a minute," he whispered. "I won't let go."

------

Walking through the infirmary a week later, the sound of Helo's footsteps were deadened by the clear plastic sheets that ran from the ceiling to the floor, dividing the large space into dozens of tiny cubicles. Walking across the room, Helo saw one man reading a worn novel by the light of a small lamp, but most of the patients slept quietly in the dim room. He spotted a sole nurse walking from bed to bed, tending to them at the late hour, and made his way towards her.

As he approached her, he searched for signs of Cottle and found none. 

"Excuse me," he said quietly, stealing her attention from the chart she was reading. "Is Doctor Cottle here?"

"I'm afraid not, sir" she replied, glancing down at the duffle he carried. "Can I help you with-"

"That's fine, thanks." He gestured to the chart. "Don't let me keep you." 

She nodded as he stepped away, her eyes following him for only a second before she returned to her task. He looked around, trying to orient himself through the maze of plastic walls, turning in a full circle before he found what he was looking for. Following the wall, he looked back once more to search for the absent doctor, then punched in the code to the supply room and opened the door. 

Racks upon racks of medicine lined the walls of the small room, vials of every color and size crammed tightly together, each labeled in microscopic black text. Setting his duffle down on the metal table that sat in the middle of the room, he stared at the obstacle that faced him.

Taking a glance at the first shelf, he quickly discovered that if there was a system of organization, he had no idea what it was. He couldn't pronounce half of the names on the vials, never mind know what the contents were used for. Glancing quickly at his watch, he began to search.

_Antibiotics, Adrenaline, Morphine, Cortisone, Anti-Radiation..._

His training was in emergency medicine, battlefield survival, not day to day living. Sharon's knowledge was limited to the same. As he passed over the vials he couldn't recognize, he wondered if any of them were the ones he really needed.

It took him five minutes before he found the Atropine, and another five before he found the anti-radiation meds. Looking down at his wrist to check the time, he froze as he heard a sound on the other side of the hatch, followed by the sound of the magnetic locks releasing.

The door cracked open and Cottle stepped through, his eyes landing on Helo, then down to the bag on the table.

"Can I help you, Captain?" Cottle asked.

Helo looked back to the shelves quickly. "I'm restocking the Raptors med kits. I couldn't find you so I thought I'd do it myself."

"I see," Cottle replied, shutting the door closed. He took a step towards the table, and reached in to pull out a box. "Anti-radiation medicine?"

"Yeah," Helo replied, still searching through the medicine though he was too nervous to read the labels.

"Lots of anti-radiation medication," Cottle continued, pulling out the handful of boxes Helo had placed in the duffle. "I can't imagine why anyone would need so much."

Helo didn't reply, his mind racing to find a plausible explanation. Before he could, the doctor found it himself.

"Going for a trip, Captain?" Cottle asked. 

Holding his breath, Helo turned to face the other man. Cottle was still looking in the duffle, holding up a syringe of Atropine and examining it casually.

"Don't tell me," Cottle said, shaking his head. "I don't want to know."

Helo exhaled slowly as he watched the doctor set down the syringe and turn away, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his white lab coat. "Okay," Helo replied as he moved to the table and started returning the removed medicine back into the duffle.

"The last one nearly killed her, son," Cottle said quietly, the words stopping Helo completely. "If she hadn't been here, aboard this ship, she would have died."

Helo closed his eyes, setting down the box of medicine he had just picked up. "You think I don't know that?" he said.

"I think you're about to do something very stupid," Cottle replied without malice. "Twice we needed to intervene to save her life and the life your child. If you take her away from here-"

"And what if I don't?" Helo cut him off. "Will you protect our child? Will you let the president try to kill this one too? Will you stop them from taking our child away from us?"

Cottle averted his eyes, staring at the ground as Helo spoke. When Helo finished, the doctor looked up. "This child could kill your wife."

Helo stuffed the last box of radiation meds into the bag, swallowing hard as he thought about the possibility. "She knows that. I know that." He looked back up at Cottle, the palms of his hands resting flat on the table. "And I don't know what I'll do if she dies, or if the child dies. I don't. But if we stay here, if we stay on Galactica, I know I'll lose them both."

"There has to be another way, son," Cottle urged.

"Tell me," Helo pleaded, wishing what the man said was true. "Tell me, please, because I want to know." 

Cottle stared down at the floor and shook his head. Turning back to the shelves of medicine, Helo resumed his search. Staring at the racks again, he tried to remember where he had been interrupted. Dropping to a knee, he ducked down to look through the vials on the lowest shelf.

"Here", Cottle said, nudging his shoulder. "You'll need these."

Helo looked up to see a pair of small vials in the mans hands. Reaching up, he took them, then looked back to the doctor for an explanation.

"Coagulants. Gods forbid you need them." Cottle knelt down beside Helo and pulled another vial from the shelf. "But if she's bleeding, and you can't stop it, this is your last resort. Understand?"

Helo nodded soberly. "Yeah."

Cottle held up the vial he had just grabbed from the shelf, and looked at Helo. "Morphine." 

-----

Opening the hatch to their quarters, Helo entered to find Sharon already asleep. He took the duffle of medicine over to his locker and placed it inside, careful to avoid making any noise that might wake her. The locker was mostly empty now, everything but the absolute essentials removed the day before. Pulling off his jacket, he hung it up inside, then shut the locker. 

He turned back to the bed and took a seat beside his wife, watching her sleep. Though her morning sickness took its toll every day, the baby had yet to begin to show. Helo wondered how long that would be the case, trying to remember when her first pregnancy had become visibly obvious. Not that it mattered to their plans or preparations. Their time on Galactica was measured in days now, not weeks.

A strand of hair fell across her face, and he brushed it gently from her forehead. She slept peacefully, a reflection of the confidence and focus that had been growing inside her as the day approached. And when he was with her, when they spoke of their plans and made their decisions, he shared it with her. But it was moments like this, moments he had to himself, where he found his doubt creeping in; regret that their lives had come to this point. He would never let her see it, he wasn't sure he could even feel it when he was around her, but he couldn't deny its existence. Everything he needed he was taking with him, but there was still so much he was leaving behind.

He stood up from the bed and pulled his jacket back out of the locker. Sleep wouldn't be coming to him tonight, and he wasn't going to waste another night trying. Putting his arms through the sleeves, he stepped towards the door, and quietly let himself out of the room.

Wandering down the hallway, he headed nowhere in particular; content to let his feet take him where they would. Making his way through the ship, it seemed every causeway and corridor summoned a memory; some pleasant, some painful.

There were memories of his first tour on Galactica, and how grateful he had been for the chance to fly even if it was aboard the aging relic. Memories of keeping Kara out of trouble, and memories of helping her find it . There were memories of the first Sharon, and how he had ached for her, watching from a distance as he let his chance slip away. Everywhere he looked, he saw a piece of his life that he would never see again.

As he walked through the ship, he came to find himself standing outside the officers' lounge. A raucous laugh echoed from inside, followed by a litany of profanities. He peeked around the corner to see the usual suspects huddled around the tables, all there for the company of their fellow officers and the drinks they shared.

"Karl," Kara shouted out to him, with several other sets of eyes turning to follow hers. "Get in here!"

Helo gave a small smile and shook his head as he stepped in. "No time, Starbuck."

"How's Sharon, Captain?" Hot Dog asked, pulling out a chair for Helo. "It's not the same without her flying out there."

"Any luck finding the bastard?" Racetrack added.

"No," Helo replied, shaking his head. He rested his hands on the back of the chair, but didn't take a seat. "She's doing better, Constanza. I'll tell her you asked."

"Well you better tell her we all asked," Racetrack insisted, holding up a glass for Helo. He took it from her, but didn't take a drink. "Why don't you bring her down here? It's not that late yet."

Kara pointed at the chair Hot Dog had pulled out for Helo. "Sit," she commanded. 

Hesitating for a moment, Helo relented and took a seat. Looking down into the clear liquor, he realized he hadn't had a drink in nearly a month. Lifting it to his lips, he savored the foul tasting alcohol, letting it burn as it slid down his throat.

"She's asleep," he replied finally, setting the glass back down on the table. "But I'm sure she'd be pleased to know she's missed." 

Kara began to deal out the cards as another round started, and dealt Helo a hand.

"I don't have any money," Helo said. "I'll just watch."

"No way, Karl," Kara replied, shaking her head and tossing him a few cubits. "It's been too long since you've given me the chance to beat you at anything. What happened to the good times when I got to do it a couple times a day?"

Helo laughed, collecting the coins she had thrown his way. It was ironic that despite the war, the tiny pieces of metal still held value. "Kara," Helo said, examining the cubit.

"Yeah?"

"We left a fortune on Caprica when we left," Helo said. "Why didn't you tell me that money was still worth something?"

"It's not about the money," Kara replied. "It's about winning it. You know that, Karl."

"Yeah, I do." With a smile, Helo took another drink from his glass and looked down at his cards. They were crap, but he played them anyways, knowing this would be his last chance to do so.

Sitting with his fellow officers, he soaked up the company. The conversation was, as always, lewd and juvenile, but he would miss it. He watched as the cubits changed hands, moving back and forth along with the insults and laughs. For a moment, he even considering going to get Sharon and bringing her back, letting her share in this. Looking down at his watch though, he saw that it had been several hours since he left her.

"Frak," he said, setting down his glass.

"Past your curfew, Karl?" Kara teased.

"Yeah, it is," he replied, playing along. "Deal me in for one more, then I've gotta go."

Kara collected the triad cards from the rest of the officers and began to shuffle. 

"So, Karl," Kara began. "What's the deal with your wife, huh? Too good to associate with us humans any more?"

Helo watched Kara as she spoke, and knew she meant no ill-will by her words; this was as close as she got to expressing concern. And it was certainly the closest she had ever gotten to showing any concern for Sharon. Even though the two had become friends again, Kara would never admit to it.

"It's not that," Helo replied. He knew that nothing he said would matter in a few days, but still he felt the need to explain. "What happened, you know it...it just took a lot out of her."

"Is she afraid?" Kara pressed. 

"No," Helo answered quickly. He looked across the table at his friend. "She's like you that way, Starbuck."

"Well if she is, she can always come here," Racetrack said. "Nobody's dumb enough to try anything like that down here."

"Yeah," Hot Dog agreed. "Last week we played to see who would get to space the guy who did it. Now Kara just has to wait for them the catch the frakker."

"Kara?" Helo repeated, surprised. She shrugged casually.

"I'm good at cards, I won," she said.

"You cheated to win," Racetrack corrected.

"So what?" Kara retorted, making no effort to deny Racetracks claim. "Maybe I just want the chance to send someone out the airlock." 

Listening to his friends talk, he knew it wasn't for his benefit that they spoke. There was a genuine affection for Sharon, even if it manifested itself in the most bizarre of ways. To the people sitting around him, she had become part of their family, even if it was a family built on circumstance, she had become welcomed in it.

But none of them could protect her or their child from the dangers they faced.

"Thanks, guys," Helo said quietly, standing up from the table.

"Leaving?" Racetrack asked, looking at his cards laying face down on the table.

"Yeah, I gotta go," he replied, resting a hand on her shoulder. "But thanks, guys. I appreciate the drinks. I appreciate everything." 

"Bring her down here next time, okay, Captain?" Hot Dog said.

Helo nodded, taking a glance at the faces of the men and women around him. "Will do, Constanza."

"Take care, Karl," Kara said, staring down at her cards.

Walking around to the other end of the table, he rested his hands on her shoulders. There wasn't enough privacy to say the things he wanted say. He doubted she would want to hear them even if there was.

"Take care, Kara," he said, squeezing her shoulders once, then lightly kissing the top of her head. Her eyes looked up at him in confusion, but he was already headed towards the door.

----- 

"Sharon?" he called out as he stepped into the observation room, his eyes adjusting to the darkness.

"I'm here," she replied quietly, her voice reaching him from the far corner of the empty room. She sat alone in the darkness, taking the chair furthest from the entrance. He looked out the large viewing window in front of him for just a moment, then made his way over to her. She stared ahead into the blackness, lost in thought as he sat down in the seat beside her.

"Are you okay?" he asked. When he had returned from the officers' lounge, he had found their bed empty, with a note left in her place telling him where to find her. "Is something wrong?"

"No," she replied, still gazing forward. Her arms crossed over her stomach, hugging herself lightly. "I'm okay."

He watched her expression, looking to see if she hid something from him, but found nothing but quiet contemplation. She turned to face him, the lights from the passing ships reflecting in her dark eyes.

"I'm saying goodbye," she said, looking back to the window. "This is our home, Helo. We're running from our home."

Her words surprised him, unaware that she might feel a share of the regret that he did. But Helo shook his head, knowing that the feelings did not change the facts. "This isn't our home, Sharon. I wish it was."

"You won't miss it?" she asked softly.

He already missed it, it didn't need to be said. "Will you?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered, nodding slowly, still staring into the stars. "I will."

He turned back to the window as he thought about her answer, watching as a cargo ship passed out of sight above them, on its way to deliver its contents to the rest of the fleet.

Of course she would miss it, he thought. It had been her home and prison for most of her short life, the borrowed memories of the first Sharon's time aboard making it that much more so. She had sacrificed so much to try and belong here with him, to make this their home. And now she would abandon it, just as he would, leaving behind almost everything she had worked so hard for.

"It used to be everything to me," he said. "But I've found something more important."

"I don't want you to do this for me," she said, shaking her head. "I don't want you to become me."

He sat forward in his chair, moving into her field of vision so that she had to see him. "I'm not doing this for you, Sharon. I'm doing this for us." When she looked over at him, he reached out to take her hand. Her fingers opened, accepting his touch and returning it. "I'm doing this for you, and me, and our child."

"And what kind of life will our daughter have?" she asked quietly, her eyes meeting his.

There was no doubt in her voice, or any sign that she felt they were making a mistake. It was only regret he heard, regret that the life she wanted for their child would never be. But his mind hung on a single word. 

"A girl," he said, unable to hold back a small smile. He didn't know how she knew, and he didn't care. He was going to have another girl. "It's a girl."

"Yes," she said, unable to keep a smile from her own lips. She pulled him closer and leaned against him as she looked back out to the stars. "It's a girl, Helo."

He stared out the window, holding Sharon in his arms, and the last doubt in his mind slipped away. His goodbyes had been said, silently and privately. He had served his people to the best of his ability.

Now it was time to leave.

----- 

The CIC hummed with life, with every person in the room occupied now that the day had moved into full swing. Helo stared up at the DRADIS, his eyes following the patrol that had just been launched.

"I hear Cottle has cleared Sharon to fly," Adama said from the across the console.

"Yes, sir," Helo replied. "She was back on the deck yesterday."

Adama signed-off on some paperwork as he continued to speak. "I'm glad to hear it, Captain. I'm looking forward to having her back out there."

Helo nodded, keeping his eyes on the DRADIS. "She's looking forward to it as well, sir."

Focused on the monitor above him, he watched a dozen ships scramble away from Galactica as the CAP spread out to and begin their first sweep. But one dot of light held his attention, floating without purpose away from the ship.

"Colonel," Gaeta called from his station. "Racetrack is reporting that Raptor 451 is experiencing a navigation problem. Her nav system has crashed."

"Tell Racetrack to bring the bird in," Tigh replied. "And have the chief look at it when she does. Isn't his job to make sure this kinda of crap doesn't happen?"

Adama's eyes followed the DRADIS for a few seconds as Raptor 451 turned and returned to Galactica. But Helo was done watching the DRADIS, and his attention was now on the people around him.

"Excuse me, Captain," Dee said from where she stood one tier above them. "Lieutenant Agathon would like to speak with you. Shall I put her through?" 

"Yes, thank you," Helo replied. A light flashed on the receiver in front of him, and lifted it to his ear. "Hello?"

As Sharon spoke, he leaned against the console.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "No, don't, I'll be right there."

Helo hung up the receiver and saw Adama watching him, a slight look of worry on his features.

"Is everything all right, Captain?" the admiral asked.

"No, sir," Helo answered, straightening up and facing the admiral. "Sir, I need to request permission-"

"Admiral, I have the president on a secure channel," Dee said, cutting Helo off.

The admiral picked up the handset in front of him, turning his back to the console. He spoke quietly, but Helo didn't care about the conversation. Waiting nervously, it became clear that the admiral was in no rush to finish the call. Helo turned to Colonel Tigh.

"Colonel, request permission to be dismissed," he said. "My wife is having some-" 

"Denied," Tigh responded without a glance.

Helo looked back to the admiral, and in the background he heard Raptor 451 requesting permission to land.

"Colonel, sir," Helo persisted. "My wife-"

"Your wife should know better than to call the CIC when you're on duty."

Now that Helo had relinquished the title of XO, Tigh lorded it over him. But Helo was too preoccupied to care.

"Colonel, sir," Helo started again, his voice even and calm. "I can wait for the admiral to finish, or you can let-"

"Leave!" Tigh barked, finally looking at Helo. "I'm tired of your face, Agathon."

Helo squared his shoulders and saluted the colonel. Turning sharply, he walked out of the CIC. Jogging down the corridor, he headed towards their quarters. He avoided looking at the faces of the people he passed, focusing completely on the task at hand.

Opening the door to their room, he found it as vacant as it had been when he left. The lockers were empty, and the shelves were bare. Walking to the bed, he grabbed his flight bag, and threw it over his shoulder. Turning back to the door, he reached for his dog tags and slid them up over his head, placing them next to Sharon's on the nightstand. 

Stepping out of the room, a resounding thud echoed down the hall as he pulled the door shut and made his way towards the deck. Someone greeted him as he walked by, but he didn't stop or turn to see who it was. Before he reached the deck, he turned off the main corridor, and headed for the flight control center.

"Put Raptor 451 back on the board," he said, taking a single step into the room. The FCO looked at him quizzically. "She'll be back in the air in ten minutes," Helo added, shutting the door before any questions could be asked.

Stepping onto the deck, it took him only a moment to find the Raptor, still venting steam as its engines cooled. He made his way over to it, grabbing the attention of a deckhand on the way.

"Specialist," he called out. The man turned, coming over immediately when he saw the rank on Helo's collar. "I need some assistance." Helo said.

"Yes, sir," the specialist replied.

Helo pointed at the Raptor, then across the deck to a stack of silver supply crates. "I need those in this bird in one minute. Got it?"

"Yes, sir, I'm on it."

He watched the deck hand head for the crates, then hopped onto the wing of the Raptor and stepped inside. Dropping his bag, he took a seat in the pilot's chair and powered up the controls. He heard the deckhand load the first crate into the ship as he cleared Sharon's program from the nav system, and watched it fire to life. Checking the fuel levels he saw that the long-range bird had all the fuel they would need.

As the deck hand continued loading the supplies, Helo pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. He read the numbers from the slip carefully, double checking each digit as he punched in the jump Sharon had calculated this morning.

"That's it," the specialist said as he finished loading the last crate.

"Thank you," he replied without looking back. Entering the last few data points into the Raptors nav system, he let the computer verify the information, and after a few moments the monitor flashed its confirmation.

A clock on one of the screens told him he was five minutes ahead of schedule.

He stood up and walked to the back of the Raptor, looking at the silver cases that contained everything they might need to start their lives over. It wasn't enough to keep them alive for more than a few months, but that's more than they would need if Caprica was still the planet they had left behind. Stepping out onto the wing, he looked all around him and knew that in less than five minutes it would all be part of his past, just another memory. The thought no longer tormented him though; he had made peace with his decisions.

He scanned the deck as he waited for Sharon, hoping she might be ahead of schedule as well. But it wasn't his wife that approached the Raptor now.

"Gods damned piece of crap," the chief said as he walked over, his eyes looking disdainfully at the Raptor, then back to Helo. "Fifth time this month this junker has flaked out on me, and each time it does, Tigh calls to make my life hell."

"Hey chief," Helo replied, unsure how to deal with Tyrol's unexpected appearance. "Don't worry about it chief, I checked her out and she's good to go." 

He looked back at the Raptor, hoping the chief would simply leave. But his words didn't seem to comfort Tyrol.

"You put this back on the board, Captain?" the chief asked awkwardly, his gaze turning to the floor.

"Yeah I did."

The chief scratched his head. "You know, uh, that's not really your call, Captain," he said, obviously upset with the break in protocol. Without looking back to Helo, the chief stepped onto the wing.

"I found the problem," Helo said quickly, following Tyrol as he stepped up onto the wing.. He scanned the deck quickly, still seeing no sign of Sharon. "Just a small glitch in the nav system," he said.

The chief shook his head as he ducked into the interior of the Raptor. "It's the small ones that kill people, sir," he said, turning back to face Helo. "The big ones keep the birds here on the deck."

"Yeah," Helo agreed, following him inside. "But it's taken care of now, chief. You don't have to worry about it."

"I'm sure it is, sir, but I'm gonna have to take this bird off the line for a full diagnostic. Tigh would have my ass if we lost one of these birds to a glitch. The admiral would probably tear out a chunk himself, know what I mean?" The chief turned to face the ECO station, nearly tripping over the supplies in the process. He stared down at the crates, then back to Helo. "What's this stuff?"

"It's nothing," Helo replied, regretting the answer the moment it lift his mouth.

Tyrol looked up at Helo, then down at the crates. He stared at them for a moment. "You mind if I look at nothing?" he asked.

Helo shrugged casually, trying to recover, praying that the chief would open a box of food or clothing. He watched as the chief unsnapped the clasps on one of the crates, then lifted the lid and stared down onto an assortment of winter clothes. Staring down at the clothing, Tyrol paused, and then leaned over again to search through the box. Helo reached out to pull back Tyrol's arm, but was too slow to prevent him from pushing aside the top layer of clothing.

The chief's eyes went wide as they landed on a rifle Helo had buried beneath.

"What the frak?" he exclaimed, looking back at Helo in disbelief.

Helo's mind filled with a dozen excuses, but he knew the chief would see through them. Abandoning them all, Helo looked squarely at Tyrol, hoping a different approach might serve him better.

"Listen to me, chief," he said quietly. "I don't have time to explain this, but you know who I am, and I need you to trust me."

The chief shook his head, pushing aside the rifle to find radios, ammo, and more stolen gear. Helo knew it looked as bad as it was. Looking up from the crate, Tyrol studied Helo a moment, the muscles in his face tightening a moment later.

"Trust you?" Tyrol replied angrily, shutting the case and walking out of the Raptor. "I don't know who you think I am, Captain. And I don't know what you think you're doing, but I'm calling the colonel, right now." 

"Chief, wait," Helo said, pulling his bag off the floor and following Tyrol onto the wing. Grabbing the chief's shoulder, he spun the man around, terrified of what he was about to do. "Chief, listen to me."

The chief's expression moved between confusion and anger, but Helo had time for neither.

"Can we talk?" Helo asked as Tyrol looked away. "Look at me chief. I need to talk you, in private, okay?"

Shutting his eyes, the chief shook his head. Helo was sure the man would walk away again and prepared to act, taking a step closer. But the chief's answer stopped him.

"Fine," Tyrol said.

Helo glanced around the deck and found what he was looking for, then motioned for Tyrol to follow him. When they reached their destination, Helo pulled open the door to the supply room and gestured for the chief to enter. Following Tyrol in, Helo saw Sharon look up from the hardware she was reprogramming. Dressed in her flight suit for the first time since the attack, her eyes flew to Tyrol, then to Helo, and in a heartbeat she heard his unspoken words.

"Sharon?" the chief asked. 

Helo pulled the door shut behind them, as Sharon stood and lifted her sidearm from its holster then leveled it at the chief. 

"What the..." Tyrol didn't finish the question, as Helo pressed the sidearm he had pulled from his bag into the small of the chief's back.

"It's okay chief. It's okay, just stay calm," Helo said quietly, gently pushing the other man towards the corner of the room. When they got half way, he stopped and gave the chief a small shove. "Just stay there, okay chief?"

Tyrol turned to look at them as he walked backwards into the corner, his expression blank as he tried to figure out what was going on. Putting her weapon away, Sharon turned back to her task as Helo watched guard over their unwanted prisoner.

"I had no choice," he said calmly.

"Three more minutes," she replied without looking up from her work on the replacement nav module, seemingly unconcerned with this unexpected development.

Tyrol's eyes moved back and forth between them as he paced in a small circle. "What are you two doing?" he asked, his agitation growing as he answered his own question. "Stealing a ship?"

Helo lowered his sidearm, uncomfortable aiming the weapon at Tyrol. He watched as Sharon reprogrammed the navigation module, the piece of hardware stolen from another Raptor only hours before. They had worried that its removal would be noticed before they could leave, but it was the chief's sudden appearance that he worried about now. He doubted they had the three minutes Sharon needed.

"Sharon," he said.

"I know," she replied, her eyes never leaving her task, her hands flying over the keyboard.

Looking back to Tyrol, Helo could see the entire spectrum of emotions crossing the other man's face. The chief scowled, and then smiled, shaking his head as he came to his own conclusions.

"So we finally see the real Sharon, huh?" Tyrol said, laughing to himself. He looked over at Helo. "And you're what? Loyal husband?"

"Be quiet, chief," Helo replied.

"I don't take orders from traitors," Tyrol spat back.

Helo ignored him, still unsure what to do with the man. But his silence only further infuriated Tyrol.

"What did the Cylons offer you?" the chief asked, slamming his fist into a shelf. "Well? What was it you frakking traitor? Tell me!" 

Helo could feel his own emotions rising as Tyrol railed against him. But he pushed them from his mind, trying to find a solution to the problem.

"What are we going to do about him?" Helo asked, looking down at Sharon.

Sharon glanced up from her work and looked over at the chief. She stared at him for a long moment, then shook her head and went back to her task. "I'll take care of it. Get the Raptor ready, Helo."

Helo stood still, her answer freezing him to the core. "Sharon, no" he said, "We are not-"

Something slammed into Helo's shoulder, glancing off and striking him in the side of the head. Stunned, he looked down to see a piece of hardware lying at his feet, and realized that Tyrol had thrown it at him. He looked back at the other man as he felt a cut on his ear bleeding down his neck.

"Tell me you frakker!" Tyrol screamed, his anger at the perceived betrayal overwhelming him. "What did the Cylons offer you? A room full of Sharons? Tell me you piece of shit!"

Walking towards the man, he felt the chief's anger unleash his own, forgetting Sharon's threat a moment before.

"Let me tell you what the Cylons didn't do," Helo growled between clenched teeth. "They didn't steal my child. They didn't hand me a metal box and tell me my daughter was inside. They didn't leave my child to die on some Gods forsaken rock!"

Helo's reply left the chief in silence, his expression transforming from anger to confusion. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Sharon and I are leaving," Helo continued, regaining his composure. "All you have to do is let us leave. That's it."

The chief shook his head, still working through Helo's earlier words. "She...she didn't die?"

_Captain Agathon and Lieutenant Agathon, please contact the CIC immediately._

"I need to leave, chief," Helo said calmly. "They stole Hera from us, and then they let her die. I'm not going to let that happen again. So you can stay out of the way, or you can help. But I'm not going to let you stop me. Do you understand?"

"That's not possible," Tyrol said, shaking his head in disbelief. "It has to be some kind of mistake. It must have been some kind of accident..."

Helo took another step towards Tyrol, making sure he had the man's attention. "Look at her," he said quietly, pointing at his Cylon wife. "Look at Sharon and tell her it was an accident."

Captain Agathon and Lieutenant Agathon, please contact the CIC immediately.

The chief closed his eyes, then lifted his hands and ran them roughly through his hair. Helo walked back to Sharon and picked up the navigation module.

"Let's go Sharon," Helo said.

"They're looking for us."

"I know."

"So you're leaving?" the chief asked, taking a few steps towards them. "Just like that? You're just gonna give up and let them win? You're gonna give up on everyone?"

"Stay there, chief," Helo said, gesturing for Tyrol to not come any closer. But the man continued to walk towards them.

"After everything you've been through, you're just gonna quit?" the chief continued, moving by them and towards the door. "You think I'm going to let you just walk away? Let you quit?"

"Chief stop-"

"Or what?" the chief asked, reaching out to grab the door. "You're going to shoot me, Captain?"

Before Helo could reply, Sharon answered the question, lifting her sidearm and leveling it at Tyrol's head.

"Step away from the door, chief," she said.

The chief stopped as he stared down the barrel of Sharon's gun, leaving his hand on the door handle. Swallowing hard, he took a deep breath, and then looked Sharon in the eye.

"You're gonna have to shoot me Sharon," Tyrol said. "I can't let you take that ship. I'm sorry." Tyrol shook his head as he searched for the right words. "We need you. You know that. We need both of you."

_Captain Agathon and Lieutenant Agathon, please contact the CIC immediately._

The room fell silent as the chief looked between the Sharon and Helo. He opened his mouth to say more, when a voice from outside the room interrupted him.

"Chief?" Cally called from the other side. "Chief are you in there?" 

"Stay out there Cally!" the chief yelled. "Stay out there!"

Despite his order, the door began to open. Helo tucked his own sidearm quickly into the back of his slacks, but Sharon made no move to lower her weapon. The chief looked wide-eyed at her, pleading as their gazes locked. A moment later, Sharon had placed her sidearm on the shelf beside her, keeping her hand wrapped around the grip, but out of sight. Sharon and Tyrol's eyes stayed on one another as Cally stepped in, an unspoken bargain negotiated between the two in the span of a second.

"Cally leave," the chief said calmly, still watching Sharon.

"I'm sorry chief, I..." Cally stopped as she saw the other two occupants of the room. "Oh. You're here, Captain," she said looking at Helo. "Everyone's looking for you."

Helo nodded silently, his nerves on edge as Sharon and Tyrol's eyes stayed locked.

Cally turned back to the door and motioned for someone to come over. "The admiral is here."

Helo could feel the situation spiraling out of control. This was not what they planned. This was not what they wanted. All they wanted was to leave, but that seemed impossible now.

"Cally. Get out, right now," the chief said. 

"Chief?"

"Now!" he yelled

She stared at him in surprise for a moment, trying to understand what she couldn't see, but did as he asked, and stepped out of the room. Turning back to Helo, Sharon spoke.

"They've come for us," she said.

"We don't know that," Helo replied, pulling out his sidearm and loading a round into the chamber, then tucking it into the back of his slacks. "Wait for me on this, okay Sharon?"

She didn't reply as she turned back to the door. 

"Don't do this," the chief said, taking a step towards them as he looked out the door. "Please, don't do this. I swear to the Gods I will help you in any way I can, but don't do this." 

"It's too late," Sharon said coldly, lifting her sidearm off the shelf and placing it in her holster, the safety still off.

The chief opened his mouth to speak again, but closed it as the admiral stepped into the room.

He walked in alone, without an escort, without the squad of marines Helo had been prepared for. The admiral looked from Helo and Sharon then back to the chief. Helo held his breath, glancing at Sharon from the corner of his eye, both of them waiting for the admiral to do or say something.

The chief stood perfectly still, keeping his eyes on Sharon. Adama followed his gaze, and turned to face the Agathons. 

Pulling the door shut behind him, the admiral walked slowly towards Helo and Sharon. He removed his glasses as he stepped closer, folding them carefully before tucking them in his jacket pocket. His eyes moved slowly from Helo to Sharon, and then back again. Helo waited for the words.

"We've received a communication from Gaius Baltar," the admiral said, "He says he's aboard a Cylon basestar. He says your daughter is still alive."


	6. Chapter 6

**Home**  
**Author:** JPBryant  
**Characters:** Sharon/Helo  
**Rating:** Mature, for descriptions of violence, language and sexual situations.  
**Spoilers:** Through 'A Measure of Salvation", everything after that is AU.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
**Summary:** Helo is forced to take drastic measures to protect his family after a series of events aboard Galactica open his eyes to the reality he and Sharon face. Set after "A Measure of Salvation", it goes completely AU after that.  
**A/N:** The sixth of seventeen chapters to the story, I'll be posting them as I finish them. Thanks to wintergreen126, jazmin22, and honibrownhateza for beta'ing this story.

**Chapter 6**

"The president landed a few minutes ago to discuss this," the admiral said, walking a few paces ahead of Sharon and Helo. "She's waiting for us in CIC."

Helo's feet couldn't feel the floor as he followed behind. The admiral's words were registering at only the upper levels of his conscience, and he found his mind unable to move past man's first words.

_He says your daughter is alive._

He blinked a few times, trying to clear his head of the fog that clouded his thoughts, but to no avail. Looking over at Sharon, he couldn't read her expression, unsure if it was his impaired mental state that prevented him from doing so, or if the shock had left her without anything to read.

"Baltar believes the Cylons intend to kill him," the admiral continued, leading them down the long corridor that connected to CIC. "He's afraid for his life, and wants us to rescue him."

"Tell me again what he said about Hera," Sharon said, her voice absent of all emotion. "What exactly did he say?"

"I'll let you see for yourself," the admiral replied, pushing open the door to the CIC and walking with purpose toward the center of the room. Helo and Sharon followed closely behind, moving towards the small crowd that had gathered there. President Roslin stood by the center console alongside Lee, with Gaeta hovering behind them.

"Madame President," the admiral greeted.

"Admiral," the president replied.

The admiral looked over to Sharon as Gaeta stepped forward to the console and set a voluminous printout down on top of it.

"Baltar has requested that we make an attempt to rescue him from the Cylons. He has confirmed that he is helping the Cylons search for earth, and in this message he claims that the Cylons have found the next clue to finding it."

"What is this?" Helo asked, looking down at the massive printout. He saw the first page was covered from margin to margin in seemingly random characters. Reaching out to flip through the pages, he saw that the entire printout consisted of the same.

The admiral gestured to Sharon. Leaning across the console, Sharon pulled the printout over and studied the first page. After a moment she began to leaf through pages quickly, the contents holding her in rapt attention. 

"This is what Baltar sent us," the admiral said. "He claims it contains detailed navigation and defense information regarding the Cylon fleet's location and movements."

Gaeta stepped over to Sharon, looking over her shoulder as she examined one page after another in rapid succession. "I've been able to pull out Baltar's messages. That was easy enough. The rest of it though, the information he says is in there...I can't find it. Honestly, I don't even know where to start."

"It's a data dump from a Basestar," Sharon replied without looking up from the pages. "Baltar didn't send this. A Cylon did."

"I can't make heads or tails of it," Gaeta said, watching in awe as Sharon flipped from one page to the next, pausing every few seconds to stare intently at a section of random numbers. "I've been looking for weeks, and I'm no further closer to being able to understand it than I was when we first got it."

Helo looked over at the admiral. "You've had this for weeks?"

The admiral and the president exchanged a brief glance before the old man spoke. 

"We've been receiving communications from Baltar for roughly five weeks," the admiral replied.

"Five weeks?" Helo repeated in disbelief. "You've known for five weeks that..." 

_Five weeks._

Helo's voice trailed off as his mind made a connection, finding an answer to a question he had abandoned. It had been five weeks to the day; five weeks since Sharon had been attacked. Five weeks since he had been faced with questions he had no desire to answer. The president's aid had been there with the admiral, with a list of questions about his dead daughter. 

Except his daughter wasn't dead.

"The questions," Helo said as the realization took hold. "You knew all along. You've known all this time that Hera was still alive."

"We don't know that Hera is alive," the admiral replied.

"Even after we found out what you did," Helo continued. "You still didn't tell us."

"The admiral is right, Captain," the president interjected. "Let's remember, this is Gaius Baltar we're talking about here. This man would do or so anything to try and save his own skin. For all we know, this could simply be a fabrication on his part to make him seem more valuable than he actually is."

"We have no way of confirming Baltar's claim," the admiral added, his eyes staring into the console. "I wasn't comfortable taking information to you that we had no way of validating. I didn't want to give you false hope."

"If, and that's a big if," the president continued, "your daughter is still alive, then we-"

"She's alive," Sharon said calmly, keeping her eyes on the printout as she flipped another page. Helo could see her jaw set tightly beneath her skin. "He's saying it specifically because only you knew the truth. She's alive." 

The admiral and Roslin looked at one another once again. Though he tried, Helo was unable to interpret the unspoken words that passed between them.

"Why now?" Helo asked the admiral. "You've had this information for five weeks. You've hidden it from us this long, why share it with us now?"

"Because this is their last chance," Sharon answered before the admiral could speak, turning back to examine an earlier page.

The admiral studied Sharon for a moment, then nodded. "Baltar thinks that the Cylons are about to change course, and move away from the fleet. If we don't act now, we may never get another chance. We're hoping that Sharon can decipher the navigation information Baltar says is located in his message so that we can reach him."

"Wait," Helo said, holding up a hand, struggling to believe what he thought he was hearing. "Are you telling me that you're actually thinking about trying to retrieve him? Off a Basestar?"

"Baltar has already helped the Cylons discover the next clue to finding earth," the president said. "He's an asset that we cannot afford to leave in the Cylons hands."

"So you're going to rescue him?" Helo asked.

The president thought about the answer for a moment. "If possible."

"And my daughter?" Sharon asked, looking up from the report for the first time.

The two women's eyes met across the console. Helo watched Sharon, waiting for the flash of anger he knew lay beneath the surface of her cool exterior. But Sharon's eyes hid every trace of emotion.

"If possible," Roslin repeated.

"My Gods," Helo said, turning from the others and closing his eyes. It was all too much for him to digest. "Hera."

He looked over to Sharon to see her gaze was still fixed on the president, searching for something in the older woman's eyes and words.

"If this message contains what Baltar claims," the president continued, "then we have the opportunity to-"

"Nothing," Sharon said, pushing the printout to the center of the console and looking from person to person. "There's nothing in there. It's garbage data. Empty."

The table fell silent as Sharon spoke. The admiral stared down silently at the printout as Roslin stared steadily at Sharon. Gaeta reached over to grab the printout, looking between it and Sharon in confusion.

And all Helo could try to do was breathe, Sharon's words knocking the wind from him.

"Sharon?" Helo asked, desperately. "Are you sure?"

"That's not possible," the president said flatly.

Sharon's eyes moved between the admiral and the president.

"Nothing," she said again. "There's nothing there."

Before anyone could reply, Sharon stepped away from the console and headed for the door.

"Sharon, wait," Helo said, watching as she walked away, then moving to follow her. "Sharon, stop!"

She didn't stop, stepping out the door and disappearing from sight. Pushing past Gaeta, he chased after her, pulling the door open and quickly looking down the crowded corridor to find her.

"Sharon," Helo called when he spotted her, quickly moving to chase after her. She didn't stop or wait for him, walking with purpose away from him and down the corridor. "Sharon, stop!" he yelled again, weaving through the crowd. Finally close enough, he reached out to grab her shoulder, and spun her around to face him. Seeing the tears in her eyes, he instantly relaxed his grip. "Sharon?"

"Let's go, Helo," she said, grabbing his arm. "We still have time, let's go, Helo."

"Sharon," he said quietly, pulling her closer. "What did you see? What did it-"

"Everything," Sharon cried softly, looking deep into Helo's eyes. "Oh God, everything, Helo."

Helo glanced over his shoulder, scanning both directions of the corridor to see if anyone had followed him out of the CIC. Seeing that no one had, he moved his body to hide Sharon's eyes from anyone passing by. "Tell me, Sharon" he said quietly.

Sharon turned to face the wall and started to fall apart before his eyes. "Navigation points, defense codes, communication keys, everything." Pressing a hand to her forehead, she closed her eyes in despair. "Oh God, she's alive, Helo. She's alive."

Grasping her arm, he pulled her around till she faced him. "Why?" he asked in confusion. "Why did you tell them it said nothing? Our daughter is alive!"

"They're not going to save Baltar!" she cried. "They're going to kill him!" 

"What?"

"Come on, Helo," she said, her voice pleading. "Baltar is leading my people to earth. The president will do anything to stop that from happening. Do you really think they're going to jump in, land some marines on a Basestar and try and save him? When they can just jump in and nuke it? Be done with Gaius Baltar forever?"

Helo shook his head. "The Cylons want to kill him. The president could just wait for them to do it."

"And if the Cylons don't?" Sharon replied. "He's already found the next marker, do you think the president will risk letting him live?" 

He wanted to be able to tell her that the admiral would never lie to them, but he no longer believed it himself.

"Sharon-" 

"Do you think Roslin would put one single human life in danger to save our daughter?" Sharon asked angrily. "Do you think she'll just give Hera to us even if she did?"

"Sharon, the president knows Hera is important. She won't just let the Cylons keep her."

"That's right" Sharon cried. "She doesn't care if Hera lives or dies, as long as my people don't have her!"

Helo tried desperately to find flaws in Sharon's logic, but came up empty. Closing his eyes, he felt his hope disintegrating inside him. Turning away from Sharon, he leaned against the wall and pressed his forehead against the cool metal. He couldn't argue against anything she was saying any more than he could abandon his daughter.

"So what, Sharon?" he asked, pressing himself off the wall and facing her. "We're leaving Hera behind? Is that what we're doing?"

Sharon's face crumpled at his words. "Helo-"

"Is that what you want to do?" he pressed on angrily.

"No!" she shouted, reaching out to grab him, her eyes burning with emotion. "We don't have a choice, Helo! They're going to kill our daughter, and they want me to help!"

Helo didn't try to escape Sharon's grasp, meeting her eyes and matching her intensity with his own.

"I will not leave her," he said, his voice leaving no room for doubt. "We will not leave our daughter behind."

She peered up into his eyes, searching them, silenced by the strength of his conviction. He watched as her expression softened, growing calm as she studied his face.

"Is there a way?" he asked quietly. "Tell me there's a way."

"I don't know, Helo," she said, closing her eyes.

He leaned in close and waited for her to look at him again. "We'll find one."

----- 

"Sharon has looked over the message again," Helo said. "She's found the data Baltar said was encrypted there." 

Sitting inside the admiral's office, only Sharon and Gaeta were absent from this second meeting. Clasping his hands together, the admiral digested Helo's news in silence, while the president watched Helo intently, giving away nothing as she waited for him to continue.

"How did she miss it the first time?" Lee asked.

"She had just found out our daughter was still alive," Helo replied, keeping his voice even. "It's the kind of news that makes it hard to think."

"What did she see?" the admiral asked, unconcerned with Lee's question.

"Everything," Helo replied, repeating Sharon's answer from earlier. "Navigation info, patrol schedules, defense codes. From what she can tell, it looks like the Cylon fleet is conducting a search of a star system about fifteen light years from our current location."

The president's eyebrows lifted a fraction. "What are they doing?" 

"It's only raw data," Helo said. "There's no way to know."

The admiral looked over at Helo, measuring his words carefully before he spoke. "Sharon has not provided the navigation information to Mr. Gaeta."

"No, sir."

"Is there a problem?" the old man asked.

Helo placed his hands together in front of him on the table, debating how to answer the question.

"She's afraid, sir," Helo finally replied. 

"Afraid?" Lee asked, but the president and admiral remained silent, seeming to understand without further explanation. "What is there to be afraid of?"

Helo turned to face Lee. "Hera's alive," he said bluntly. "That's more than Sharon and I could have ever hoped for. Sharon's afraid to put our daughter in the middle of a fire-fight." He turned to look back at the admiral and president. "The way she sees it, our daughter is as safe as she could ever be."

The president straightened up in her chair, and looked away, failing to hide her displeasure. Helo wasn't sure if it was him, Sharon, or Hera that she couldn't stand, but it made no difference

"Captain," the president began, slipping off her glasses and looking back at Helo. "You and your wife must realize that withholding this information from the fleet is an act of treason."

"My wife's only desire is to protect our child," Helo replied, trying to ignore the not-so-veiled threat. "I won't argue against her need to do that."

The president's voice became steel. "Treason, Captain Agathon. Do you understand what that means?"

Helo nodded. "Yes."

The president studied him carefully, then sighed deeply.

"I don't envy Sharon's situation," the president continued, offering a small smile. "And I understand her reluctance. But she will hand the data over. I don't need to tell you what the consequences will be if she refuses."

The hair on the back of Helo's neck stood on end, his pulse quickening as he tried to keep a cool exterior. The thought scared him more than any threat to his own being ever could, but it didn't change his reply. 

"It's a small price to pay for keeping our daughter safe, Madame President."

"Safe?" Lee asked in shock. "She's living with the Cylons, and you're okay with that?"

"No, I'm not," Helo said, shaking his head. "But I won't question my wife's desire to protect Hera. Yesterday she thought our daughter was dead. Today she simply wants to keep her alive."

The rest of the occupants looked to one another in silence, each weighing Helo's words. The president lifted her glasses off the table and crossed her arms in front of her. Biting her lips, she glanced at the table, then back to Helo.

"Captain Agathon," she began, her tone losing the razor edge it held before. "What can we do to help alleviate your wife's fears?"

"We need your word," Helo answered without pause, looking from Roslin to the admiral. "We need your word that you'll do anything it takes to protect our daughter and bring her back to us."

The admiral didn't respond immediately, staring ahead as he pondered Helo's request. A moment later he shook his head sadly, and stared back down at the table. "I'm sorry, Captain," the admiral replied. "I won't lie to you, I can't make that commitment."

Helo nodded, joining the admiral in gazing at the table's surface.

"I understand, sir," Helo replied, having already prepared himself for the admiral's answer. "With your permission sir, I'd like to discuss this with Sharon. She's waiting for-"

"You have my word, Captain," the president said before he could finish. "And I don't give my word lightly. I'll do whatever must be done to bring her back safely."

"Madame President?" the admiral asked in surprise.

The president stood up from the table, then leaned over it, towering over everyone else. "I don't know why your daughter is important. All I know is that she is." The president looked squarely at Helo. "You and your wife have my word Captain. We will do whatever it takes to get Hera back."

----- 

Helo sat in darkened ready room, watching the display on the large screen in front of him. Sharon's silhouette blocked out some of the image, and her skin and clothing were painted in the blue tinted light of the projection. The display on the screen changed, and now the long arm of a Cylon Basestar bisected her body into dark and light.

"It won't last long," she said, turning back to face the nearly empty room. Sitting beside Helo, Starbuck watched intently from her chair, while the admiral sat several seats further away. "But with the defense codes we've gotten from Baltar, I'll be able to flood the Cylon data stream for a few minutes before they realize what's happening. During that time, they'll be completely blind to what we're doing."

Lee's shadow joined Sharon's at the front of the room, his body standing out in relief just as hers did. He stared at the images that moved across the screen, studying some unknown detail in tight focus. Lee turned to look over at Sharon, the light from the projection moving over their features as they stared at one another.

"Can't we program Galactica's computers to do this?" Lee asked.

"Galactica's computers aren't fast enough, unless we network them," Sharon replied. "I don't think I need to explain the risks involved in that. By doing it this way, I'll be the only one exposed to a Cylon response."

Lee looked back to the screen. "How many marines will we need?"

"If everything goes right?" Sharon's eyes wandered over the images and information. "None. If everything goes right, we should be in and out without firing a shot. But two teams of marines should be enough to cover any contingencies. If we need more than that, we've already failed."

Stepping towards the wall, Lee placed his finger on the projected diagram of a Basestar. "This is where we're picking up Baltar?" he asked. "How will he know to be there?"

"I can piggy-back a reply on the same channel he sent his messages over," Sharon answered. "If Baltar and the Cylon helping him are looking anywhere for a response, they'll be looking there."

Helo looked over at Starbuck, then to the Admiral. Kara's eyes moved over the display as she analyzed the plan, while the admiral maintained the detached expression he had held all meeting.

"But you're not sure he'll see it," Lee stated. "I mean, it's possible he might not, right?"

Sharon stared back at the screen, her focus fading for a brief moment as she seemed to stare through the wall. "He'll see it," she replied. Lee waited for her to say more, but she offered nothing further.

Sitting up from his chair, the admiral pulled down on the hem of his jacket to straighten it, then looked over to Kara.

"What do you think, Starbuck?" he asked.

Kara tilted her head as she continued to stare at the screen, working through the details in her mind. "It's twitchy as hell, sir," she replied, her tone caught between concern and admiration. "If everything goes as planned, it'll be a thing of beauty. But I can't remember the last time everything went as planned."

Helo looked back to the admiral as the images continued to pass by on the screen. The old man's shadow joined Lee and Sharon's as he walked toward the front of the room.

"Go talk to your teams," the admiral said, turning away and heading for the door. "See what feedback we get."

"Yes, sir," Lee and Kara replied in unison. 

Sharon and Helo remained silent, watching as the admiral walked away without another word.

-----

She held her breath, keeping her eyes closed as she pushed the cable deeper into her arm. A trickle of blood escaped from around the wire, leaving a trail of crimson as it slid down her skin and onto the gauze pad she had placed beneath her arm. Helo watched quietly, sitting beside her and resting a hand on her knee. He fought the urge to look away from the scene, away from this facet of the woman he loved.

Her eyes opened slowly and she took a slow, even breath.

"Does it hurt?" he asked quietly.

She sat less than a meter away from him at the back of the Raptor. The wiring and hardware that would connect her to the ship was already in place, and in a few moments she would literally be able to fly the Raptor with her mind. For this mission, however, her mind would be handling much more demanding tasks.

"You don't have to stay, babe," she said, reaching out with her free hand to hold his. "It's okay, I'm almost done."

Three times now, she had asked him subtly to leave, and each time he had refused

"Take your time," he said, grabbing a gauze bandage and reaching over to dab away the small trickle of blood around the wire. "We're not in any rush."

Her eyes stayed on his a moment, and then with a small nod, she closed her eyes and took hold of the cable once again. Using her thumb and forefinger, she threaded the wire deeper into her flesh, another inch disappearing beneath her skin.

A small click echoed through the cabin, sending a chill down his spine and a wave of relief over her features.

"Done," she said, exhaling slowly and opening her eyes. A dozen centimeters of cable hung outside her arm, ending in a jack that would connect with the Raptor. She tried to reach down into the medical kit beside her without moving her arm, but he reached over and stopped her before she could.

"Let me," he said, kneeling down in front of her and pulling the medical tape from the kit. After wiping another drop of blood from her arm, he carefully taped the cable to her arm to secure it. It would stay there for two days, or until they had brought their daughter home.

She took his hand before he could pull it away, the sliver of metal in her arm reflecting the red and blue lights of the Raptor's interior.

"Does it hurt," she said, a small smile appearing on her lips as she mimicked his earlier question.

He smiled back, lifting his hand and running it through her hair. "You'd never tell me if I didn't ask."

She pulled him closer and kissed him softly. "Let's see if this works, babe," she whispered, then pointed to a fiber cable that ran from the under the ECO station. Standing up off the floor, he pulled the wire over and handed it to her, watching as she slid it into the interface in her arm.

"Captain?" a voice called from outside the Raptor, stealing his attention away from Sharon. Glancing out the hatch, he saw Tyrol standing just beyond the wing of the ship. Sharon's eyes followed his, landing on the chief briefly before returning to Helo.

"Helo," she said, reading his eyes and seeing the discomfort there. Nodding towards the hatch, she urged him forward. "Talk to him," she said gently. "I'm not going anywhere."

Staring down at the cable running out of his wife's arm, he didn't move immediately, delaying to give his mind time to prepare. The two men had spoken only once since their confrontation a few days before, a brief encounter without apology or kindness. Thirty seconds into the short meeting Tyrol had walked away, leaving only his unspoken promise that he wouldn't betray them.

"Chief," Helo replied finally, ducking out of the Raptor and onto the wing. The two men measured one another as Helo stepped down onto the deck, purposefully leaving several meters distance between himself and the chief.

Helo didn't know why the chief had kept silent about what had happened. And while he was sure there was no malice behind Tyrol keeping it secret, he was still wary. They needed less than forty-eight hours now, and the man in front of him could ruin it all.

"Can I help, you chief?" Helo asked after a few seconds passed in silence. 

"The CAG sent me, Captain," Tyrol replied, his voice even as he gestured towards the Raptor. His eyes stayed on Helo, watching his face but avoiding his eyes. "He wanted me to see if you two needed any help."

Helo turned to look back into the ship. Sharon sat alone inside the ship, her eyes closed in thought. On the monitors above her he could see a torrent of information and data scrolling by, faster than any human mind could follow.

"No, that's okay," Helo said, turning back to face the chief. "We're just about done."

Looking up into the Raptor, the chief watched as Sharon sat motionless there. Nobody needed to tell Helo how alien a sight it was, with the silver cable running between her and the ship. And he knew what most people saw; one machine talking to another. But the chief's eyes were devoid of any apprehension or judgment.

"You guys holding up okay?" Tyrol asked, the sincerity of the question leaving Helo at a loss. "I mean…you guys alright?"

"Yeah," he said after a few moments. 

"Okay," the chief nodded. "Just let me know if I can help."

Helo's brow furrowed at the unexpected turn of the conversation. He had been preparing for further conflict with this man, not this. Looking down to the deck, he searched for something to match the chief's olive branch.

"Chief, I want to explain-"

"Captain," Tyrol cut him off, raising a hand to stop him. "You don't have to say anything. I just wanted to let you know that I'm behind you."

Helo shook his head, unsatisfied. "Chief, you know I wouldn't ever-"

"Don't," Tyrol interjected, stopping him again. "Don't say it, sir. I don't need you to explain it to me. I have a family too, Captain." 

The chief opened his mouth to say more, then shut it quickly. Helo stood silently, waiting for the man to try again.

After a few seconds, Tyrol walked over and took a seat on the wing of the Raptor, ignoring the invisible barrier Helo had put up at the start of the conversation. Watching and waiting, Helo knelt to the deck to return to eye level with the man. The chief had clearly come in peace, and Helo would do nothing to threaten that.

"I know…I know all it takes is a single second to lose everything you care about," the chief said quietly, almost to himself. He shook his head as if to banish a thought, then looked over to Helo. "You know, some of us are fighting because...because that's all there is. I used to be one of those people, I guess. But I'm fighting for more than that now, just like you. So you don't need to explain anything to me, sir. Do you think if I was in your shoes I wouldn't do the same?"

Helo didn't need to think about the answer, hearing his own thoughts coming from the other man's lips. "I know you would, chief," he replied, locking eyes with the man. 

"We're gonna get your daughter back."

Tyrol's words hit Helo like a truck.

There were only a handful of people that knew all the objectives of the mission, and the chief was not supposed be one of them. But the absolute confidence and conviction in the man's voice made Helo's pulse accelerate. And to hear the outcome so clearly predicted and declared sent a surge of energy through his body.

"I know," Helo replied. "I will get my daughter back."

-----

He was lost, and he welcomed it.

"Sharon," he whispered, expecting no reply.

Her long hair fell across his face, forcing his eyes shut in the darkness. The smell of her hair, the taste of her skin, the feel of her thighs sliding against him; each sensation fought for dominance in his mind.

There were no more plans to be made, no more decisions left to make; there was only time to kill, time for doubts and worries to slip into his mind. But sleep eluded them, and so they sought a different escape.

Her teeth scraped lightly on his neck, her rhythm never faltering as she bit down gently on his flesh. His hands moved slowly up her sides until she grabbed his wrists, pushing them down and pinning them against the bed. Her lips moved to cover his, kissing him deeply to cut off any objection he might raise, though he had none.

The small cable taped against her arm pressed into his skin, the cold metal bringing unwanted thoughts of the coming day. A moment later they vanished, as her tongue searched his and her tempo increased. She mewled softly into their kiss, her intensity and volume rising as her hips moved faster, his own rising off the bed to meet her.

He felt her toes curling and pressed into the sides of his legs as he spilled into her, her body stiffening above him. His voice joined hers in filling the room, until the only sound left was that of their lungs straining to recover from the exertion. Collapsing on top of him, she rested her cheek against his chest and he wrapped his arms around her.

The cool air evaporated the sweat from his body, the chill it created contrasting with the warmth of her body. He reached up to brush her hair away from her forehead, leaning up to kiss the top of her head as he did so. Neither made any effort to move, resting there for long minutes until Sharon broke the silence. 

"Nothing has changed," she whispered.

Her eyes stared blankly through the darkness. He could hear the sadness and resignation in her voice, and the thoughts they had tried to chase away returned to his mind.

"I know," he replied. 

Sliding off of him, she pulled the covers up over them and tucked her body against his. Her head rested on his shoulder and she draped his arm across his chest. Looking down at her, he saw her eyes were as alert as his.

"Try to sleep," he urged, doubting it was possible for either of them to do so. There were only hours left now.

She shook her head slightly, still staring ahead. 

"I want to hold her," she whispered.

The whites of her eyes disappeared in the darkness as Sharon closed them. He pulled her closer, squeezing her reassuringly.

"You will," he said, turning his body to face her. "Tomorrow you will."

"I want to feel her in my arms, Helo," she continued. "I want to see her eyes. I want to smell her skin."

He had never heard her speak so plainly of her need, but he understood it. Not a night had passed since he had learned Hera was alive, that he didn't find himself staring at the ceiling, trying to imagine what his two-year old daughter looked like.

"Me too," he whispered back. "I hope she has your eyes."

"Do you think she'll remember me?"

The question surprised him, both with the honesty and absurdity of its nature. Hera had never even opened her eyes, never mind been old enough to remember a face or a voice. And then again, she was half her mother, and her mother had never forgotten anything in her entire life.

"Maybe," he answered, treading carefully. "It's gonna take time Sharon."

Her eyes stared absently through him, and he could see her mind working through the unknown and unasked. It was a part of Sharon he rarely saw, but most never witnessed at all.

"Is it fair?" she said quietly.

"Fair?" he repeated, unsure of what she asked. The word sounded foreign coming from Sharon.

She lowered a hand to her stomach, resting it gently there. Her eyes came into focus, meeting his as she spoke. "Putting one child in harm's way to save another."

He moved his hand to cover hers, his fingers threading through hers. Leaning in, he pressed his forehead to hers and closed his eyes. He had no answer for her. He doubted an answer existed.

"I don't know," he whispered. "But Hera's little sister would understand. We would do the same for her."

He kissed her forehead softly and pulled her closer. 

-----

"Ready?" he asked.

"Ready," she replied.

They walked onto the bustling flight deck, weaving through the chaos towards their Raptor. Everywhere he looked preparations for the operation were in full swing, with deck hands feeding rounds into Vipers and pilots completing their flight checks. Following Sharon across the hangar, he could feel the energy in the air, the unmistakable and unique tension that surrounded those who might be living the last hours of their lives.

"Good hunting, Captain," the chief said as he passed heading the other direction.

Helo nodded in reply.

Stepping up onto the wing of their Raptor ahead of him, Sharon wore black fatigues in place of her flight suit. He was dressed in the same black attire, foregoing the pressure suit along with his wife. Entering the ship, he dropped his flight bag to the floor as she took a seat at the ECO's station. He knelt beside her as she rolled back her sleeve, exposing the metal that ran from her arm. Reaching for the cable under the console, he grabbed it and handed it to her.

"You're in my chair," he said as she connected herself to the ship.

"I can do your job," she replied, waiting for him to smile before she cracked a grin herself.

Helo walked to the front of the cabin and fired up the ship's systems. As the monitors came to life one-by-one, he checked the ship's instruments a final time. Through the cockpit glass he could see the frenetic activity continuing on the deck. A pair of Vipers were towed towards the launch tubes in front of him, while the chief and his crew worked to prepare a third. 

"Now this is just like old times," a voice called from behind him. He turned to see Starbuck step into the cabin, grinning as she looked between him and Sharon. "Helo and Sharon back in the saddle again. It's been a while."

"Starbuck," Sharon greeted without looking up.

Helo stood up from the pilots chair and headed towards the back of the cabin. "How are we looking, Starbuck?"

Kara grabbed the lip of the hatch above her and leaned forward. "You're looking at the new CAG." 

"What?" Helo asked, confused.

"The admiral has recused himself from the op," Kara continued. "Lee's taken his place."

He and Sharon exchanged a worried glance, and then he looked back to Kara. "What happened?"

Kara shrugged slightly. "The president landed about an hour ago, right after that I got a call from the old man telling me about the change."

"No explanation?" he prompted.

"Nothing," Kara replied. "Just told me to try and bring everyone home alive."

Hearing Kara speak, Helo felt a growing unease.

"Alright," Kara said, appearing to detect the discomfort around her. "I just came to say good hunting."

Helo nodded. "Yeah, thanks, Kara. Good hunting."

He watched her step out of the Raptor and looked back to his wife. In her eyes he could see the some concern that he felt. Without a word, she looked back to the screens above her, continuing her pre-flight prep.

Returning to the front of the ship, he sat back down in the pilot's seat and strapped himself in.

Adjusting his headset, he tested the communication link with CIC, and Dee's familiar voice on the other end brought him a small measure of comfort. A moment later he heard Sharon speaking over the ship's private channel.

"Echo One," she said.

"Echo Two," he replied.

He looked over his shoulder to see Sharon strapping in, and opened the channel.

"Flight control, this is Helo and Athena, Raptor 109," he said over the headset. "Requesting permission for take-off."

_Raptor 109, the board is empty, and you are cleared for take-off on deck zero-zero-one._

"Roger flight control," Helo replied, watching as a deck vehicle moved in to tow the Raptor into position. "We're getting lift now, and should be wheels up in two minutes."

_Roger that Raptor 109._

When they were towed clear of the hangar, Helo took the controls and lifted the forty-ton Raptor off the deck. Gliding towards the end of runway, row after row of lights passed outside the window, until there was no light at all, only the blackness of space. The dim red interior illumination of the Raptor highlighted all his instruments, but left the bulk of the ship in darkness.

Letting the ship drift away from Galactica, he waited for the order to begin the operation. Random communication traffic passed through his headset, but the cabin was otherwise silent. He stabilized the pitch of the Raptor with a small tap of the controls, and a pneumatic hiss sounded through the ship.

Listening for the go ahead, his mind worked through the myriad of scenarios that could arise. No matter what, the operation would not take long; from beginning to end, it would last less then ten minutes. Ten minutes of chaos, and if it took any longer that, it meant they had failed.

And he knew without a doubt that these ten minutes would be the most important of his life. In ten minutes he would be bringing his daughter home, or he wouldn't be coming home at all.

"Helo," Sharon said.

"Yeah?" he replied.

When she didn't answer, he turned to look over his shoulder and found her eyes resting on him calmly.

"I would do it all again." she said. "I want you to know that."

_Galactica to Helo, Raptor 109. We are clear to go on your mark._

He tried to smile for her. "I want to hear that again when we get back, okay?" 

She didn't smile back, and his heart told him to go to her. But the moment was upon them.

"Roger that Galactica," Helo replied over the headset, turning back to the controls. He pressed the throttle forward, sending the Raptor towards the edge of the fleet. "Jumping on my mark in fifteen seconds," he said. 

The ships of the fleet passed out of Helo's view as he oriented the Raptor for the jump. The FTL drive whined almost imperceptibly as it prepared to bend the space around the ship and deliver them instantly to their objective.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he centered himself, then began the countdown. "Jumping five, four, three, two, one...mark."

The unmistakable feeling of faster than light travel passed over him, time slowing down to less than a crawl for a fraction of a second, then hurtling forward to catch up. The star field in front of him collapsed into pure blackness for an instant, and in the next instant the blackness gave way to a new source of light.

The light from a nearby sun reflected off the gleaming Cylon basestar, its silver hull reflecting every color of the spectrum. Dozens of tiny specs of light circled around it, seeming to float without purpose in every direction. The behemoth drifted slowly through the ether, and for a moment Helo could do nothing but stare.

But his mind was jarred back to the task when the basestar suddenly changed its trajectory, spinning as it turned towards their Raptor. The motes surrounding the massive ship stopped their seemingly random motion, growing in size as they moved in unison towards the intruder. 

"We've got their attention," he said, watching as the Cylons approached.

"Beginning data flood," Sharon announced.

Helo watched and waited as the approaching ships began to take shape, the microscopic outlines of the Raiders getting closer with each passing second. He tried to count their numbers as they closed in, tried to guess how far they were from firing range, knowing nothing he could do would stop them. Streams of tiny lights spread out from the basestar, the metallic bodies of the Raiders it launched catching the light for a moment before turning towards the lone Raptor.

Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Sharon's eyes were shut, her lids fluttering at the unseen effort. He turned back, and now it was no longer the reflected star light that marked the approach of the Raiders, but the ominous red eye of each ship. His hands flexed over the controls tightly, but he made no attempt to flee; there was nowhere to go even if he wanted to

"Sharon," he called out, but she made no reply.

A flash of light shot out from one of the approaching fighters, followed by another and another. The first tracer round flew beneath the Raptor, missing by a good hundred meters, but the second and third grew successively closer. When another flurry of flashes appeared in the distance, Helo's instincts took over, and he threw the ship into a wide barrel roll.

"Sharon!' he cried again, the screens in front him screaming as several Raiders gained a missile lock on the Raptor simultaneously. More rounds flew past the window as the Cylons drew a bead on the ship.

A loud, high-pitched tone filled the cabin as the ship's computer registered a missile launch. Helo reached over to drop a decoy, punching the button twice as a round from one of the Raiders glanced off the hull of the ship. He felt the Raptor tremble as it ejected the two countermeasures, and then pulled the controls up into a sharp climb to distance the ship from them. A dozen different sounds and alarms filled the cabin as the Cylons continued to pursue.

And then all of a sudden, he heard nothing but her voice coming over his headset.

"It's done," she said.

The ship was completely silent, the alarms and warning silenced completely. Helo watched as a missile sailed several hundred meters over them, leaving a trail of flame as it flew aimlessly away. Looking down at the DRADIS, he saw the Raiders continued to follow him, but failed to react when he changed the Raptors direction of travel. He pulled the ship back to even pitch, turning the ship out of their plane of pursuit, keeping on eye on the DRADIS as he did.

Turning the ship around, he was greeted by the sight of dozens of raiders tumbling slowly through the void. The red glow that had marked them before was eerily absent, only the reflection of their metallic wings revealing their presence in the darkness.

"It won't last long," Sharon said, her voice strained. "The hybrid is already trying to clear the bad data. She's closed the data stream."

Helo looked back to the basestar and watched as it pitched off its axis, crippled by Sharon's attack. Watching the massive ship yawing, Helo pushed the Raptor forward, closing ground on the disabled ship. He maneuvered around a pair of free-floating Raiders as he approached, turning back onto course as Galactica jumped in.

The battlestar filled the cockpit window, blocking his view of the basestar and nearly everything else.

"Whoa," he shouted, pulling back on the controls to stop the Raptor. Galactica was moving at full speed towards the Cylon capital ship, and had jumped in much closer than the plan had called for.

When his path was clear again, he brought the Raptor back to speed, chasing after Galactica as Dee's voice came over his headset.

_Launch the Vipers._

Helo waited for the next order as continued to pursue Galactica, pushing the Raptor to full throttle as both ships headed straight for the basestar. A dozen Vipers launched from the side of the battlestar, quickly turning onto a parallel course with it. 

"Launch the Raptors," he whispered to himself.

_Vipers maintain defensive perimeter._

He felt his gut clench as the seconds passed without the order. His Raptor's speed finally matched and then exceeded that of Galactica, beginning to make up lost ground.

"Helo," Sharon started.

"I know," he cut her off, his hand gripping the throttle tightly as he pushed the ship to its limit.

_Galactica, this is Starbuck. Vipers are in position. Spreading into escort formation._

_Negative Starbuck, maintain defense perimeter._

Helo guided the Raptor under the belly of Galactica, and opened the channel. "Galactica, Helo. The path is clear. There's nothing but empty space between you and the objective."

_Roger that, Helo._

He held is breath waiting for the order once again, and once again, it didn't come. Their Raptor shot out from under Galactica, taking the lead in the race towards the basestar. He watched as the Cylon ship lurched slightly, trying to reorient itself and failing. Behind him, he heard Sharon draw in a sharp breath. 

"Helo," she said. "Galactica is calculating a firing solution."

"Galactica, Helo," he said, opening the channel again, trying to keep his emotions in check. "We're showing you as calculating a firing solution. Please advise."

It was Lee's voice that came over the wireless in reply.

_Raptor 109, you're out of formation. Clear the objective area immediately._

Helo pitched the ship upwards, placing it directly between the two capital ships.

"Negative, Galactica," he answered, shaking his head. "Don't do this, Major."

_Helo, you will immediately return to-_

"My daughter is on that ship," Helo shouted. "I won't let you do this."

There was a long pause before Lee replied, and when he did, there was a sadness Helo had never heard before in the other man's voice.

_I'm sorry, Helo. It's too late. I'm under direct orders from the president. Don't make this harder on me._

"Galactica has a firing solution," Sharon said quietly.

Helo kept his eyes focus on the basestar as they flew closer and closer. He could make out the small details of the ship now, and see the flotsam of Raiders that tumbled without purpose around the struggling ship. But his mind was consumed with the decision he had already made, a decision that he and Sharon had made the day they found out their daughter was alive. 

They had prepared for the president's betrayal; Sharon had expected it. Looking over his shoulder, he found her waiting for him to speak. Looking over his shoulder, he found her waiting for him to speak.

"Do it," he said.

She nodded once, then closed her eyes.

"Disabling Galactica's fire-control center," she said, "Disabling Galactica's DRADIS."

Turning forward, Helo visually scanned the Basestar as he heard Kara's voice in his ear.

_Galactica, Starbuck. What the hell is going on? Where are the Raptors?_

Dee's voice sounded over the wireless once again.

_Vipers clear main batteries. Repeat, Vipers clear main batteries. _

Helo could see the landing bay now, nothing more than small black hole on the surface of the Cylon ship. He could see on his DRADIS that Galactica had turned to starboard, preparing to launch its first salvo against the crippled basestar. They had yet to realize they were as helpless as their target.

"Disabling Galactica's main batteries," Sharon continued. "Disabling ship-to-ship missile system."

_Karl, get out of there! Do you think I won't cut you down if-_

Helo ripped off his headset and threw it to the side before he could hear the end of Lee's sentence.

"Are they there, Sharon?" he called back. 

"Yes," she replied. "They're waiting for us."

The basestar lurched once again as Helo guided the Raptor towards his objective, but this time the movement had purpose. Still pushing his ship at full speed, he watched as the capital ship slowly righted itself.

"Sharon..."

"We still have time," she insisted. "Two minutes before the hybrid regains complete control." 

He forced his mind to shut out the thoughts of concern for his shipmates, forcing himself instead to focus on the next one hundred and twenty seconds of his life. He could save everyone if he just stayed focused.

The Raptor sliced into the basestar's hangar bay at near full speed, with Helo yanking back on the throttle as the blackness of space gave way to the cavernous flesh walls of the Cylon ship. He knew the twists and turns of the interior from nights of studying with Sharon, prepared for what they would face if his people forced their hand.

"There," Sharon said, her voice coming from just over his shoulder. He glanced back to see her out of her chair and standing beside him. She pointed to a spot on the port side, and following her hand, he saw a glint of metal standing out from the organic surroundings. Steering the ship closer, he could see it was the Heavy Raider, waiting exactly where it was supposed to be.

Helo could feel his heart racing as he guided the ship down, struggling to keep the adrenaline that flooded his body from overwhelming him. Hope and fear fought within him as the Raptor touched down just fifteen meters from the Cylon transport. Un-strapping himself from the chair, he watched as the ramp of the Raider lowered and two figures appeared at the hatch. Gaius Baltar walked slowly down the ramp, followed by a blonde Cylon.

But all he could see was the child she carried in her arms.

"Hera," he whispered.

Sharon ran back and hit the hatch release as he stood up, his eyes still fixed on the brown haired child. When the hatch opened, he turned and followed Sharon out, nearly leaping off the wing as he made his way towards the other ship.

He trailed behind Sharon, watching as she approached their daughter and then stopped short, unsure. When Sharon paused, the blonde covered the remaining distance herself.

"Hello, Sharon," the blond said, leaning forward to press Hera into her mother's arms. "She's been waiting for you."

Closing her eyes, Sharon reached out to take her daughter and then smiled the smile of her life. He stepped close and wrapped his arms around them both, squeezing as hard as he could without hurting them. Looking down, he saw his daughter was more beautiful then he could have ever imagined. Her brown, silky hair curled the way his mother's had, and her dark eyes were all Sharon.

His daughter lived. His daughter was in his arms.

Kissing Sharon and looking back to his daughter, he tried to tell them he loved them, but no words could get past the lump in his throat. He heard his wife let out a small sob as she smiled through her tears, and then realized he was crying himself. Hugging his family tightly, he buried his face in his daughter's hair, letting his tears fall freely.

Through it all, Hera remained calm, staring curiously at everything except her parents. He laughed at the realization, and pressed his lips to her cheek again, kissing her as she tried to pull away.

"Thank you," Sharon said, wiping away a tear and turning to face the other woman. He turned to look at the Cylon he assumed was Caprica, the Cylon with whom Sharon had planned everything.

Caprica nodded, smiling softly through the worry that clouded her features.

"This is all very lovely," Baltar said, stepping forward, a look of desperate agitation in his eyes. "But shouldn't we be leaving?" 

Baltar's words reset the focus in Helo's mind, and he ran back to the Raptor. Jumping onto the wing, he ducked inside and grabbed the first of two silver crates. Lifting the heavy boxes by their handles, he made his way back out, and then up the ramp of the Heavy Raider, dropping them just inside.

"Are you sure?" Sharon asked, still holding Hera in her arms as he made his way back for the rest of the supplies.

"Yes," Caprica replied. 

Helo made his way into the Raptor again and found Baltar already inside. Grabbing another two crates, he turned to leave when Baltar stopped him.

"How can you be sure the fleet is going to be there?" he asked, holding Helo's arm as he looked into his eyes.

"They'll be there," Helo replied as he pulled out of Baltar's grasp. "Sharon's programmed everything already, and Caprica can fly you out of here. Once you're out, just let the computer run the jump. They'll pick you up when they spot you on the DRADIS."

Leaving Baltar behind, he made his way back to the Cylon ship and set the crates inside before heading back for the last of the supplies. He couldn't help looking at Hera each time he passed, despite the clock ticking in the back of his mind. Reminding himself that he had the rest of his life to meet his child, he ran back to the Raptor and hauled out the last box. He carried it back to where Sharon stood with Caprica, and ran a hand over his daughter's hair.

"We need to go," he urged calmly. Sharon looked over at him, then back to Caprica.

"Do you love him?" Sharon pressed.

Caprica didn't hesitate. "Yes."

"It's not going to be easy," Sharon said quietly.

"I know," Caprica replied, the doubt in her eyes conflicting with confidence in her voice.

Sharon looked down at Hera, brushing her daughter's curly locks away from her eyes. Helo could see the debate raging in Sharon's mind, but his wife simply nodded, and looked back to Caprica.

"Good luck," Sharon said. "The ship is ready for you."

"Thank you."

The two women exchanged a long look, and then stepped towards their new lives.

"Ready?" Helo asked.

Sharon smiled and shifted Hera into her other arm. "We're ready. Let's go, Helo." 

Walking up the ramp into the Heavy Raider, Sharon reluctantly handed Hera to him. He held her close as they walked to the front of the ship, savoring the feel of holding his daughter in his arms. His little girl again seemed interested in everything but him, and again he could care less. Sharon took a seat in the pilot's chair, strapping in as she closed the hatch and took the controls. He followed suit, wrapping the seat harness around both him and Hera, and a moment later, the ship lifted off.

The basestar twisted and turned as they made their way to the exit, challenging Sharon's flight skills. When the exit finally came into view, she punched the ship forward, sending them hurtling back into space.

"Open a channel, Sharon," Helo said as he saw Galactica lumbering away, still trying to calculate its jump back to the fleet. Sharon's hand reached across the alien console, and suddenly the cabin was filled with sound of Galactica's wireless channel.

"Just speak," she instructed.

"Galactica, this Helo and Athena," he said.

He never thought he would get to say those words. And he never thought he would be saying what followed.

"Galactica, this is Helo and Athena," he repeated. "Good luck and goodbye." 

--- End Chapter 6 and Part 1 ---

If you've read and enjoyed the story up to this point, feedback is appreciated. :) 


	7. Chapter 7

**Home**  
**Author:** JPBryant  
**Characters:** Sharon/Helo  
**Rating:** Mature, for descriptions of violence, language and sexual situations.  
**Spoilers:** Through 'A Measure of Salvation", everything after that is AU.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
**Summary:** After rescuing Hera from the Cylons, Helo and Sharon try to start a new life. Set after "A Measure of Salvation", it goes completely AU after that.  
**A/N:** The seventh of seventeen chapters to the story, I'll be posting them as I finish them. Thanks to wintergreen126, Lightn, and Jazmin22 - I can't thank them enough for all the time they put into helping me with this.

**Chapter 7**

The dusty planet rotated slowly beneath them, the Caprican sun peeking around the edge of the once brilliant crown jewel of the colonies. The bright greens and blues that Helo remembered from his time in orbit were only visible through occasional holes and cracks in the cloud cover that still enveloped the planet. He could see storm systems swirling through the atmosphere, carrying the rain he had come to know so well in the months he had called Caprica home.

He looked over to Sharon, waiting anxiously as her eyes darted from one screen to another, while Hera squirmed in his lap. The little girl was sitting too low to see out the cockpit glass, and the dark cabin of the ship offered little to occupy her. Grabbing the harness that strapped her and her father to the chair, she pulled on it in silent annoyance.

"Zero contacts," Sharon said, still reading the instruments. Helo could make nothing from the streams of light she stared at, but he could see the line of her shoulders relaxing the longer she looked. "There's nothing out there," she said.

Helo looked back down at the abandoned planet. They had prepared for the Cylons to be here, just in case, calculating backup jumps to outlying mining colonies and moons, ready to find another home if her people had returned. None of that would be necessary though; after destroying and then occupying Caprica, the Cylons had simply left it.

Now he and Sharon would reclaim the discarded world and try to make it their home.

"Let's go," he said.

Sharon pushed the ship forward, sending it gliding down towards the atmosphere. Sunlight spilled across the planet, pushing back the darkness as a new morning dawned on this side of the world, and night began on the other. Chasing the demarcation of light and dark, they descended into the first layers of the atmosphere and the ship began to tremble. 

Pushing through the stratosphere, the ship lurched, pressing Helo and his daughter hard against the restraints. The trembling of the ship steadily grew into a violent shaking, a loud roar filling the cabin as they sliced deeper into the atmosphere. Flames licked at the trailing edges of the cockpit window, tiny blue jets of fire that appeared for only a moment before dying and being replaced by another.

And as quickly as the turbulence had come, it was gone. With a final bump, the vibration and sound that had filled the cabin disappeared, and Sharon leveled the ship. The sun was directly behind them now, and up ahead Helo could see the terminus line approaching fast. Cruising above the cloud layer, stars filled the velvet sky above them, until Sharon dipped the nose of the craft and sent them plowing into the cloud bank.

He could see nothing out the cockpit window except a curtain of gray, and as they outran the Caprican sun, the cabin fell into darkness once more. The dim interior lights of the ship reflected off of the tiny water droplets that formed on the outside of the glass, but there was little else to see. Glancing over at Sharon, he saw she was as calm as could be. She knew where they were going, and he knew she would get them there. 

He looked down at the girl in his arms, dressed in a simple white nightgown bereft of any decoration or pattern. Something on the console in front of them had managed to capture her attention, and she stared intently at the Cylon display.

She still had yet to look at him or Sharon, always looking past or through them. And though he already loved her with every fiber of his being, he wasn't surprised that the feeling wasn't mutual. He only hoped that whatever damage had been done during the first two years of her life could be undone with time and affection.

Reaching out to take one of her tiny hands, she didn't resist or respond.

"We're almost there, Hera," he said.

The Cylon transport slid out from beneath the clouds, and the lack of celestial illumination left the ground below them in near complete darkness. Sharon's hands moved over the controls as she brought the ship lower, allowing Helo to make out the faint outlines of the topography below. A snow covered mountain range stood out along their port side, the silver capped peaks standing out against the blackness of everything else. The ship flew parallel to the mountains, following the argent spine further west.

Lifting the ship over a smaller set of peaks, Sharon flew towards their destination. She had memorized the flight-path to the small mountain town before their first attempt to leave Galactica, and the memory had not faded.

"There," she said, looking out into the darkness.

Helo saw nothing at first, but as she lowered the ship to within a hundred meters of ground, he could make out the shapes of man-made structures below. 

"Let's set down," he said, "Try to find a place for the night."

She nodded once and guided the ship towards the tree line, maneuvering carefully around the edges of the forest. Landing just inside the tree line, he could feel the craft sink into the soft turf below. Neither he nor Sharon made a move to rise from their seat, sitting in silence for a moment and staring out the window. Hera began to squirm again, pulling and tugging at the straps.

"Let me," Sharon said, standing up and reaching out to take their little girl. Sharon's eyes lit up and her smile returned as he handed Hera to her. "Hello, Hera," she said, her voice rising softly.

He watched silently as mother and child reunited once more, and seeing the smile on his wife's face brought one to his as well. The reality of the moment was almost more than he could believe; this was his life, and nothing, not even any regrets he had buried deep inside, could match the power of the scene before him.

He ran a hand over his daughter's hair and then headed to the back of the ship. Kneeling beside the crates of supplies they had transferred from the Raptor, he snapped open the latches. Sharon's footsteps echoed off the metal walls of the cabin as she walked up behind him and reached over to punch the latch release. The low pitched grinding of high tension gears filled the cabin as the back of the ship yawned open onto a dark, empty field. Warm air from outside mixed with the cool conditioned air of the ship, carrying with it the smell of wet grass he had come to associate with the planet. A small vibration shook the ship as the ramp hit the ground, the silence it left in its wake quickly permeated by the rhythmic tapping of falling water on the metal grates.

"Rain," Sharon said. She stood at the top of the ramp and looked out, Hera cradled in her arms.

He smiled as he continued his search through the boxes, pulling out a few blankets and some rations. Stuffing them into his flight bag, he stood and joined Sharon and his daughter in staring out into the night. On the opposite side of the field he spotted what appeared to be a white building atop a small hill, though in the darkness and rain it was impossible to see clearly.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he prepared to head out. When his gaze passed over his daughter, he stopped, slipped the bag down and pulled out one of the blankets. With Sharon's help he wrapped it around their daughter to shield their child from the rain which would soon greet them.

"Ready?" he asked. 

Sharon took a few steps onto the ramp in reply, and he followed quickly behind. The first drops of rain hit them and they began to jog across the field, long grasses bending and snapping as they made their way towards the building on the hill. The rain fell steadily, wetting his hair and seeping into the collar of his fatigues. Bundled tightly, Hera was kept close to her mother's chest as they covered the distance between the ship and the white building. Unseen obstacles beneath their feet threatened to send them to the ground with each step, but he kept his pace, focused on their destination.

Reaching the side of the structure, there were no overhangs or awnings to shelter them. With the rain beating down, they moved quickly around the edge of the building until they discovered a large set of double doors. Finding them locked, Helo kicked them in without a second thought, and led his family inside. 

He closed the doors behind them as Sharon unwrapped Hera and dried off the rain that had penetrated the blanket. Pulling the lantern out of his bag, he turned back to the darkness and turned it on, lighting their surroundings.

A large marble statue sat in the middle of the room, a stone goddess dominating everything else and demanding attention. The white stone floors matched the walls, while four pillars supported the domed ceiling ten meters above them. 

"A temple," he said.

He made his way towards the center of the room, the pure light of his lantern reflecting off the smooth floors. The shadows cast by the pillars splayed out as he moved forward to examine the statue, a goddess kneeling before a gilded fire, tending it for eternity.

"Hestia," Sharon said, from behind him. "Goddess of hearth and home."

Helo studied the stone figure, remembering the temples he had visited on Geminon during shore leave. This shrine couldn't compare to the opulent displays he had seen there, but at this moment, the simplicity of this shrine spoke to him in a way others had failed. 

"Hestia," he repeated, turning back to Sharon and smiling.

But Sharon didn't reply, preoccupied with trying to wipe every last drop of rain from her little girl. Hera seemed oblivious to the attention.

"She hasn't said a word," Sharon said quietly, running the blanket over Hera's nearly dry hair, ignoring her own saturated hair and clothes. "Not a sound even."

Helo walked back to the two and kneeled beside them. He heard the worry in Sharon's voice, though he didn't feel it himself; he had prepared himself for the worst, and silence was far from that. Hera placed a curious finger in her mouth, and wandered away from her parents on unsteady legs, moving with purpose towards the statue in the middle of the room.

"She's been through a lot," Helo said, reaching out and running a hand over Sharon's back.

"Yeah," she agreed halfheartedly, her eyes following Hera.

Looking around the room, it seemed as good a place as any to start from.

"This will do for a few days," he said, looking back to Sharon. "I'm gonna go back to the ship and get some supplies."

His words brought Sharon's focus away from Hera, and she turned to face him. "We'll be here," she replied with a small smile, reaching out and squeezing his hand. 

The dash back to the ship was as wet as the first. His pants were soaked from through the tall grass, and he was grateful for the warm summer air that counteracted the cool rain. Jogging back up the ramp of the ship, he shook the rain from his hair, running a hand through it to wipe away the remainder.

Searching through the crates, he grabbed some dry clothes for him and Sharon. At the bottom of one box he had put away the few articles of children's clothing he had scrounged up, but it was obvious now that they were too big for his daughter. She seemed small for her two years, much smaller than he had expected, and that worried him more than her continued silence.

Staring at the over-sized clothes and the problem they presented, he smiled to himself, thankful for the new worries in his life. He had left so much behind, but everything he had everything he needed.

Throwing more supplies into his bag, he stepped back out into the rain, scanning his surroundings as he made his third trip across the field. They had landed at the edge of the town, and he could see a few more buildings in the distance to his right.

He pushed open the broken doors, feeling slightly guilty about the method he had used to enter the temple earlier. Doing his best to put the doors back on their hinges, he turned to see Sharon sitting against one of the pillars, a blanket beneath her. She had stripped down to her tanks, leaving her wet fatigues spread out to dry on the floor. From this angle he could make the out the very faintest of bulges in her mid-section, the beginnings of their second daughter. Sharon's eyes were locked on their first child though, who now wandered from pillar to pillar, studying each one with a critical eye.

"She's a curious little girl," Helo said as he approached. He took a seat beside Sharon, just off the blanket so as not to get it wet.

"Curious about everything but us," Sharon said, unable to hide the trace of dejection in her voice. Neither of them had known what to expect, but it was obvious that Sharon's hopes had been higher than his. 

Looking at Hera, he wanted nothing more than to run up and hug her tightly. But he knew she needed time as much as they needed her.

"Be patient, Sharon," he told her softly.

Sharon moved closer, ignoring his wet clothes and wrapping her arms around his. "I know."

Hera's interest in the pillars had diminished, and she waddled back to the stone goddess, her shadow joining Hestia's. Sitting in the silent temple, Sharon hugged Helo's arm tightly as her gaze moved from their daughter to him. 

"In the morning I'll start the search for somewhere more permanent," he said, his mind wandering to the coming days. "There were some structures up on the ridge that-"

Before he could finish, Sharon's lips covered his, cutting him off. Her hand rested on the back of his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. The corners of her mouth lifted into a small smile as she slowly broke the contact.

"Not in front of the kids, Sharon," Helo whispered, bringing his hand to rest on her stomach and flashing a smile of his own.

She laughed, and the sound filled his soul, reminding him why he was here.

Changing into the dry tanks and sweats he had brought back from the ship, he joined her on the blanket. Together they watched their daughter, until the little girl grew tired and found a spot beside them to sleep. They made her as comfortable as they could, using spare clothing for a pillow and placing another blanket over her. And when their daughter finally dozed off, Helo and Sharon followed her, finding the peaceful sleep that had eluded them for so long.

---

Walking just inside the tree line, he looked out onto the fields of wild grain that filled the valley. The clouds had parted at dawn, and the midday sun tried to penetrate the canopy above him. The green leaves that shaded him contrasted sharply with the yellow fields of dried grass and the azure blue sky. He stared out to the horizon, admiring the rich blue heavens that Caprica had once been known for.

Silence followed him as he walked the edge between forest and field, only the occasional click or buzz of an insect echoing through the air. Looking down at his watch, he saw it had been four hours since he left Sharon and Hera. The time on the watch was wrong, and though he was sure Sharon or the ship could provide the right one, it seemed unimportant; time had become completely relative.

There was a sudden rustling in a nearby tree, startling him. He took an involuntary step backwards, then watched as pair of birds flew out from the branches, fleeing from Helo's presence. He watched as they sailed across the field, riding the warm air. They weren't the first birds he had seen this morning; he had stopped for a few minutes earlier in the day to watch a large bird of prey circling alone over one of the fields.

During his walk it had become clear that birds weren't the only living things that still called this valley home. A few small rodents had crossed his path as well, scampering from tree to tree, while butterflies and moths floated in numbers above the fields of grain.

There was no doubt that here, above the fallout line, life continued. It was a thought that brought mixed emotions from Helo.

The mountain range had been spared the radioactive fallout that would poison everything and make existence impossible. The food and water would be free of nuclear contamination, and anti-radiation meds would only be necessary for trips down to lower altitudes. These were all good things.

But if the rodents and birds had survived the radiation, then his fellow humans might have as well; humans that wouldn't know or care that Sharon was different than the rest of her people. Humans that might make things very complicated for him and his family.

Realizing he had stopped walking, a new, subtle sound registered in his mind. Joining the clicking of a nearby insect was the sound of flowing water. He turned, searching for the source but failing to find it. Pushing through the underbrush, he headed deeper into the woods, following the sound as it grew in volume. Walking up to the crack in the ground, he knew the shallow stream would be unimpressive before he even saw it, but he could care less how it appeared; access to fresh water was essential, and this was the first he had found all day.

Kneeling into the dirt, he dipped his hand into the clear, cold water and brought it up to wash his face. A thin layer of sweat and grime had accumulated from the hike, and he took the opportunity to remove it.

A small growl from his belly sent him searching through his flight bag. Pulling out a protein bar, he fell back on his rear, taking a seat beside the stream. Unwrapping the unappetizing meal, he took a bite of the bland bar, chewing it thoroughly before choking it down. He hadn't been surprised when Hera had turned her nose up at the offering this morning, and he had made it one of his objectives to find something more palatable for his daughter.

Staring into the stream, he watched where a small drop off created a continuous eddy in the water, and his mind wandered from his daughter to Sharon.

She had been ill when he left, another bout of morning sickness taking its toll, and though she had smiled for him when it ended, it was only for show. He thought of her trying to recover on the stone floor of the temple, and the thought pushed him to his feet. Throwing the half-eaten bar back in his bag, he prepared to move on.

Food for Hera, and a bed for Sharon, those were his goals; he would have time to rest afterwards. Though he knew he could find both easily enough in town, there was no safety there, not until they knew for sure that the Cylons had left, and left without any humans to fill the void. Until then, he would continue his search here in the outlying hills. 

Turning away and taking a step back towards the fields, a glint of light from further down the stream caught his eye. He peered through the trees, craning his neck to try and find the source of the reflected light, but the underbrush and foliage hid it from his view. Taking a few steps down the stream, his feet sunk into the sandy bank as he went to investigate.

He pushed aside a low hanging branch, and found what he was looking for in more ways than one. Sunlight bounced off the glass windows of a log cabin, its bleached wood blending perfectly with the forest surroundings. One-story high, the building appeared to be in good shape, with no obvious signs of damage or disrepair. Chopped wood was stacked neatly alongside one wall of the cabin, and in back he saw a green tarp draped over a pair of gas tanks.

He jumped to the other side of the stream and made his way up to the building. Half-way there, his foot snagged on something beneath the thin layer of dead leaves that covered the forest floor. A black cable came up from the ground as he tried to untangle his foot, kicking up a line of dirt and leaves that led to a nearby tree. He stopped and traced the cable with his eyes, following it along the ground, around a tree, and up into the branches. Shielding his eyes from the sun, he peered up into the tree top, and saw a dozen silver-blue panels strung between the trees twenty meters above him.

Helo smiled at his good fortune. With fresh water, gas, and solar power, the well concealed cabin was exactly what he was looking for. He thought it might take weeks to find something so ideal, and here it was only four hours into his search.

The front door opened with just a push, and upon examination he found it had no lock at all. No need, he guessed, in a place as remote as this. Wooden floors creaked as he stepped into the front room, a faint musty odor filling the air. The room was in good order, with a table and chairs occupying one corner and a fireplace occupying another. The rough hewn timbers on the outside of the cabin gave way to polished and stained timber inside. Through a doorway to his left, he could see the corner of a bed in the next room, and directly ahead he could see into a small kitchen.

Walking into the kitchen, he tried to imagine Sharon and Hera living inside these walls. It wasn't luxurious, but Sharon wouldn't care and neither would Hera. He smiled as he thought of his little girl, wandering from pillar to pillar the night before, examining the stone with her hands as much as her eyes. He wondered it the polished beams of timber would provide as much entertainment for her.

Opening the cabinets he found them stocked with non-perishables. He reached down to the gas stove and turned it on, a blue flame catching as the igniter clicked once. Moving over to the sink, Helo turned the handles expecting nothing, and found exactly that.

Searching through his bag with one hand, he walked out of the kitchen and back into the main room, stopping to examine it once again. It wasn't impressive, but he wasn't looking for impressive.

He pulled out his radio as he moved towards the attached bedroom, eager to tell Sharon of his find.

"Sharon," he said, clicking on the radio and stepping into the bedroom.

Mid-stride, he stopped with one foot in the room and one still out. A soft brown carpet covered most of the floor, and the burgundy covers on the bed were neatly tucked in, ready for the room's next occupant. Sadly, the former occupants had yet to leave.

"What's up?" she said, her voice coming in with just a trace of static over the radio. 

He stared down at the three bodies on the floor, reduced to nothing more than bones and clothes. The carpet beneath them was stained black from the decay, and the smell of death that had blended with the other odors before, now came to the front of Helo's mind. Two of the skeletons were entwined near the bed, one set of bones much smaller than the others. The third sat alone beneath the window, staring at Helo from across the room.

"Helo?" Sharon asked.

Stepping out of the room, Helo walked back to the kitchen, trying to hold back the bile rising in his throat. 

"Nothing," he said over the radio. "Just wanted to see how you two were doing."

Opening the cabinets, he grabbed everything that looked like it might appeal to a two year old, throwing the food into his bag.

"We're fine," she replied, her voice growing concerned. "Are you okay?"

Moving quickly out the front door, he didn't bother to close it behind him.

"I'm fine," he said, jumping over the stream and heading back towards the edge of the forest. "I'll be back before dark."

"Alright. Be careful, Helo."

Helo stopped and turned back to look at the cabin, only to find that the underbrush and foliage that had hidden it from him before did so once again. And that was fine with him. There would be other houses. 

---

He returned to the temple as the last rays of the sun peeked over the mountains, trying his best to fix the broken door one more time before giving up and turning to his family. 

Sharon stood over Hera with arms crossed over her chest while their daughter played on the blanket, stacking the packs of rations she had rejected earlier in the day. Watching from the door, the similarities between mother and daughter were obvious to him, though they continued to differ in the level of attention they paid to one another. While Sharon's eyes followed Hera's every movement, the little girl still seemed oblivious to her mother's presence. He hoped that it had not been that way all day, but looking at Sharon's expression, it seemed likely that it might have been.

"Hey," he said softly as he approached.

"Hey, babe," Sharon replied, keeping her eyes on Hera.

"You okay?" he whispered. Stepping behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulders and lightly massaged them.

"Yeah," she said, glancing over her shoulder to smile at him. When she did, he could see dark circles forming under her eyes, and her skin seemed to have lost some of its color.

"You're sick," he said, leaving no room for her to deny it. Her morning sickness had been bad in the days leading up to the rescue, and it was only getting worse. "Lay down, Sharon. Rest."

"I'm fine," she insisted, turning back to Hera while reaching up to capture one of his hands. "Any luck?" she asked.

He didn't answer, unsure if he should let her change the subject so easily. He was used to her refusing his help, refusing to show any sign of weakness except in the quietest, most private of moments. For so long she had done it out of necessity, building up walls to protect them from the slings and arrows of humanity. But the walls served no purpose now, and she carried their child. He had more to worry about then offending her fierce pride. 

"Come on, Sharon," he whispered, wrapping his arms gently around her waist and pulling her over to the blanket. "Let's rest."

Relenting, she let him guide her down to the floor, where he gathered another blanket and placed it beneath her head. Propping himself up on an elbow, he smiled down at her and waited patiently for her to do the same.

"I'm fine, Helo," she insisted once more, unable to keep a small smile from her lips. She glanced over at Hera quickly to check on her, then looked back to Helo and repeated her question. "Any luck?"

Helo looked at Hera, to see her attention was fixed firmly on the ration packs Sharon had given her to use as building blocks. Her white gown was beginning to get dirty around the hem and knees, and he realized finding clothes for the child would be a challenge.

"I found some food she might like," he replied. "Some crackers, some dried fruit, a little candy. Did she eat anything while I was gone?" 

"I pulled the all the crackers from the rations," Sharon said, looking a little guilty. "She was starving."

Helo laughed at the image his mind conjured; perfectly practical Sharon opening every ration they had to feed her daughter; it was funny how that side of her vanished the moment someone she loved was in need. 

"She actually looked at me when I gave them to her," she added hopefully. Leaning up on her elbows, she returned to watching Hera. "I take it you didn't find anything worth leaving this place for?"

"No," he replied after a moment. He pushed away the memory of the cabin before it could haunt him again. "I'll try again tomorrow."

She nodded slightly in silent acknowledgment.

With Sharon still watching Hera, he rolled onto his back, and stared up into the domed ceiling. The light from the lantern was limited to a horizontal field, leaving the ceiling with only the ambient light reflected from the white floors and walls. He stretched his legs as he peered into the shadows, knowing another night spent on the stone floor would do little to relieve the tightness in his calves and thighs. In a couple of days his body would be used to the prolonged effort, though, and he did his best to ignore the aches.

"What do you think Kara's doing right now?" Helo asked, the question coming to his mind and lips before he realized it.

Sharon kept her eyes on their daughter, and at first he wasn't sure if she had even heard his question. But then she turned to Helo and smiled. "She's probably screaming what a frakker you are."

"Yeah," he agreed.

Still smiling, she laid back down beside Helo. "Or maybe she's trying to convince the Admiral to come rescue us."

Helo laughed again, surprised at how easily it came. Here they were, alone on a dead planet, by their own choice, and he was able to laugh in a way he hadn't been able to for months. He wrapped an arm around Sharon and pulled her tight, closing his eyes as he breathed her in.

--- End Chapter 7 --- 


	8. Chapter 8

**Home**  
**Author:** JPBryant  
**Characters:** Sharon/Helo  
**Rating:** Mature, for descriptions of violence, language and sexual situations.  
**Spoilers:** Through 'A Measure of Salvation", everything after that is AU.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
**Summary:** After rescuing Hera from the Cylons, Helo and Sharon try to start a new life. Set after "A Measure of Salvation", it goes completely AU after that.  
**A/N:** The eigth of seventeen chapters to the story, I'll be posting them as I finish them. Thanks to wintergreen126, Lightn, and Jazmin22 - I can't thank them enough for all the time they put into helping me with this.

**Chapter 8**

"Where?" Sharon asked, peering through the cockpit glass.

"There," Helo replied, pointing out the window toward the starboard side.

The first light of dawn had begun to paint the edges of clouds in purple and orange, and the metallic body of the Cylon ship mirrored the brilliant sky. Skimming along the ridge, Helo had spotted the potential home he had found the day before. High up in the hills and invisible from the valley below, it had taken him five days of searching to find a suitable prospect.

Sharon saw it as well now, and guided their stolen craft down to the large clearing beside the house. Hera sat in his lap, and once again was eager to get out of it. He held her tight, trying to calm her, but still she struggled to free herself from the harness.

He looked over at Sharon, searching for some sign of approval of their new home, but flying the craft seemed to take all of the energy and focus she had this morning. Looking back outside, he watched as the two-story cabin grew larger in the windows as they approached. Set on the side of the mountain, the house itself was hidden from sight, though the large clearing beside it provided a clear view down into the town below. After nearly a week of searching, he hoped that the home looked as good to Sharon as it did to him.

He was looking forward to a night spent in a bed rather than on hard stone, and even more so, he was looking forward to Sharon getting some real rest. Each day he had left her, he had come back to find her looking sicker than before. This morning had been the worst yet, with Sharon barely able to rise from her knees after spilling the contents of her stomach on the floor of the temple.

Sharon set the ship down without grace, jarring the ship, and Helo quickly released the buckles to free an anxious Hera. Standing up, he moved over to Sharon and took her arm lightly.

"Take it easy," he said, supporting her as she stood.

Sharon laughed and looked up at him. "I must look really bad," she said with a wan smile.

"It's not that," he lied. "It's just-"

"It was the same way with Hera," she cut him off gently. "You just don't remember because you weren't there."

Helo's brow furrowed. "What?"

"You were with Kara, and I was following you," she said, keeping the smile as she reminded him of their brief separation. "It was exactly the same then as it is now, okay?" 

Her words brought a mix of emotions, and none them made him feel any better.

"I want you to rest," he insisted.

"I will," she assured him, though he suspected her words were intended to end the discussion as much as they were to comfort him. Stepping away, she took his hand and headed towards the back of the ship. 

When he opened the rear hatch, Hera was the first one out into the clearing. Walking down the metal ramp, he saw the morning sun was rising over the valley, coloring the town far below in golden hues. Sharon stepped out onto the grass, and made her way towards the cabin. He followed behind, while Hera found something interesting at her feet, picked it up, and then threw it away.

"Solar power?" Sharon asked, seeing the panels on the roof.

Helo shook his head. "They don't work, I don't know why."

Sharon stopped when she reached the front porch, her arms crossing over her chest as she turned to look back at their daughter. The girl had ambled behind them, but still paid them no heed.

"There's a stream coming down the side of the mountain," he said, pointing to the other side of the house. Glancing over at her, he watched, waiting for some sign that she approved, but her attention was still fixed firmly on Hera. He continued speaking, hoping to distract her. "It's only about a hundred meters away. There's a well back there too, but it doesn't work. Hopefully if we can get the solar cells working, that'll fix the problem. I'm thinking that if-" 

"I love it," she said quietly. Her eyes drifted to the cabin, though he could see her focus was elsewhere. "It's great, babe."

"But..." He stopped and smiled as she leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around her and continued. "Sharon..." he protested softly. 

"Does it have a bed?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied. "Two of them."

"Will you be next to me in one of them?"

"Yes," he said again, his smile growing. 

She turned into his arms and slid deeper into his embrace. "Then I love it," she whispered.

Closing his eyes, he pulled her close and laughed to himself as he thought about all the deliberation he had put into finding the home.

She squeezed him tightly and then stepped away, smiling softly. But the smile faded as Hera came up the porch steps, steadying herself with a hand on the ground as she worked her way to the top. He saw the look of rejection on Sharon's face that had become familiar in the last few days, and sought to quickly banish it.

"Let's go inside," he said, hopping up the stairs and opening the door. Hera was the first through, moving in to explore before Sharon had even reached the top of the steps. He looked back at Sharon, and saw his wife's eyes sadden as Hera wandered away. "Come on, Sharon," he urged. "I want to show you something."

Sharon paused at the doorway, hugging herself lightly. The small spark and fire she had shown just moments before was caught up and washed away with her daughter's continued indifference.

"Sharon," he called quietly, reaching out and taking her hand. "Come on."

"She hates me," Sharon said, then shook her head. "No, it's worse than that."

"Sharon-"

"She doesn't care," she continued, cutting him off. "I'm just another Eight to her." 

"Stop," he said. "It's too soon, okay? It's too soon, Sharon."

She didn't reply, staring absently into the cabin. Still holding her hand, he gently pulled her inside.

"I want to show you something," he said again. "Remember that feather bed you wanted?"

---

Wiping the sweat from his brow, he cursed at the shovel and jammed it into the dirt. After another hour of effort, he only had ten meters of progress to show for his effort, and he knew the fleet issue entrenching tool wasn't up to the task at hand, even if he was. 

Glancing over his shoulder, he found that Hera had wandered too far away yet again and headed after her.

"Hera," he said as he picked her up and carried her back to his work site. "Stay close, okay?"

After two weeks he no longer expected any reply or reaction from the little girl, having grown used to her silence. It made every question a rhetorical one, but it didn't stop him from talking to his daughter.

"You have stay here with me while your mom rests, alright?" he said, setting her down a few meters from the shallow trench he was digging.

Turning back to his work, he didn't want to guess how much longer it would take him to divert the stream closer to the house. When they first arrived the hundred meter walk to fresh water had seemed trivial. He hadn't realized how taxing the walk up and down the steep path could be when you had to haul twenty-five kilos of water with you each time.

But looking at the blisters on his hands and feeling the ache in his back, he was beginning to think that walking might not be that bad after all. He stared down at the shovel, debating whether or not he wanted to pick it up again, and then looked over to Hera.

"I guess it's good thing I've got plenty of time," he said.

Hera had moved a few steps away and was crouching in the short grass, running her hand curiously over the tips of the green blades. The white nightgown was gone, replaced with a set of baby blue clothes he had scrounged up back on Galactica. Sharon had cut the sleeves and legs to fit Hera better, and already the edges of had begun to unravel.

As he watched her playing, she found something in the dirt and dug it out with her tiny fingers. When she lifted it to her mouth, he was beside her in a flash, reaching down to wrest the stone from her hand.

"That's not food," he laughed, taking the rock from her hand and tossing it away. He picked her up again and carried her over to where he had left his pack. "Let me get you something better, okay?"

Sitting down in the grass, he kept her in has lap as reached into his pack and pulled out a bag of dried fruit. She tried to wiggle away until she realized that food was involved, then sat patiently waiting for Helo to hand it to her. He had come to enjoy meal time with her more than anything else; it was the only time she seemed to acknowledge his and Sharon's presence.

He opened the bag and handed her a piece, watching as she eagerly took a large bite out of it and then chewed with vigor. Smiling at his daughter's reaction, he grabbed another piece, ready to hand it to her when she finished the first. 

"Good, huh?" he asked, holding out the second piece for her.

She reached out and took the dried apple slice from him before she had finished the first, but he didn't object, enjoying the interaction, as minimal as it was. Sharon too had relished the moments at first, but as the days wore on and Hera's ambivalence continued, she herself had begun to withdraw, unable to manage the rejection. Each day he saw it take a toll on Sharon in ways her physical illness never could.

"I need to ask a favor, Hera," he said, watching as she crushed the apple slice in her small fist. She stared over his shoulder now, having, as always, found something more interesting than him to look at. "You know I'm okay with the whole quiet thing," he continued. "But mom doesn't really get it, you know?"

He stared at his mute daughter and hoped that he was right, that this would pass, that her silence was simply a defense against a reality that had been turned upside down too many times. But at the edge of his mind other thoughts had begun to take hold. Maybe this was who she was, this was who she would always be. She was literally one of a kind, alone in a universe that had only known humans and Cylons before she was born. There was no way of knowing what her mixed blood had blessed and cursed her with, or to which of the two her silence could be attributed.

"It doesn't matter to me," he told her, pushing back his worries even as he acknowledged their validity. "But your mom needs you to know her. She needs you to know who she is."

Her eyes wandered from the trees to the house, then back to the grass at her feet. He handed her another piece of fruit, and she took the opportunity to slide out of his lap and take a few awkward steps away; the one-sided conversation was apparently over.

"Okay," he said, rising up from the grass. In the back of his mind he had always hoped that despite her silence, she understood what was being said. But it was becoming harder and harder to hold on to that belief each day. "Don't wander away too far," he said, walking back to his shovel and picking it up.

He looked over the work before him, but his heart was no longer in it, and his mind had returned to Sharon. Physically she wasn't getting worse, but she wasn't getting any better either. Some days were good, some days were bad, but she told him everyday that it would pass and everyday it returned

He took a step towards the trench and shook his head; there was nothing more he could do to help Sharon feel better, and there was nothing he could do to make Hera acknowledge her mother.

_Give it time._

They were words he had spoken to Sharon countless times in the past two weeks. Now he found he needed them himself, both for Sharon and Hera.

"Give it time," he whispered. 

Just as he spoke, he felt a small tug on his slacks. Turning around, he saw that Hera stood beside him, looking directly up into his eyes while keeping a hold on a handful of his pant leg. He stared down in shock, and the shock only grew as her eyes searched his. Attentive and alert, the little girl was looking for something there. 

"Look at you!" he exclaimed, barely able to keep from shouting with joy. "Hello, Hera!"

The little girl continued to look up at him, showing no signs that she heard anything he was saying. Instead, she lifted her free hand and held it up to him. She opened it slowly, to reveal the tiny rock he had thrown away earlier. He couldn't find any words as she waited patiently for him to take it, pushing her arm higher into the air to encourage him. 

Kneeling down beside her, he took the quartz stone from her hand. "Thank you," he said quietly. "It's beautiful, Hera." 

She watched him silently for a few moments, still reading him. He saw something flash for a moment in her eyes, but before he could make anything of it, it was gone, and a moment later so was she. Turning around, she stepped away and returned to her aimless wandering.

He looked down at the stone she had given him, and stared into the clear white veins that ran across its rose colored surface. It was a thing of beauty, and she had given it to him.

But as he slipped it into his pocket, his mind returned to Sharon lying sick inside the house, and wished Hera's gift had been for her mother, not her father.

---

Opening his eyes, he stared up into the wooden beams of the ceiling and was lost for a moment, his mind still expecting to wake to the sight of Galactica's grey metal walls. There were no air filters humming in the background, no footsteps echoing outside his quarters, only the sound of his daughter's light breathing coming from the other bed. Outside the window, he saw grey overcast skies dulling the morning light.

Stretching his muscles, he spread his arms across the feather bed. Sharon had smiled and hugged him when he showed her the down mattress, and he promised that one day he would finish the job and find her the silk comforter she had wished for during their last stay on the planet. At the moment though, he was simply wondering where his wife was.

"Sharon?" he said, but got no reply. 

He stood up, and grabbed his slacks off the foot of the bed. Throwing them on, he stepped out of the room and headed down to the main floor, the wooden staircase squeaking as his weight compressed each step in turn.

Reaching the bottom, he glanced around and still found no sign of Sharon. The small living area to his right was a room they had barely even stepped into, though the worn couch and chairs set around the fireplace looked perfect for a winter night. The office to his left was no bigger, with a single desk and chair that faced out the window. For the moment, however, Helo was using it as a staging area, with most of their supplies stacked in random piles alongside the silver crates that had held them. Carefully stepping around the clutter, he made his way though the room towards the doorway that connected the kitchen.

"Sharon," he called out again.

The kitchen had gotten as little use as the front room. With no real food to cook, an oven without electricity, and a sink without running water, the room had little to offer besides the large table that sat in the center. Packs of rations were stacked on the surface of the table, and they reminded him that it wouldn't be long till he would need make a trip down into the town to find more provisions. But his thoughts quickly returned to Sharon's absence.

The hinges on the back door protested as Helo pushed it open and stepped outside into the morning light. 

"Sharon," he shouted.

"Here," her voice replied, coming from up above him.

He turned to look up, and he saw her inching her way down the roof on her rear. He moved quickly to position himself beneath her, and reached up to catch her as she came off the lip of the roof and fell the last meter into his arms.

"Hey," she greeted him.

Her color was only slightly better than usual, her complexion still too pallid for his comfort. She needed to rest, but the past few days he had been unable to convince her to stay inside with Hera. Her contact with her daughter had been reduced to nothing more than longing looks, though he made his best effort to keep them in the same room as often as possible.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I found it," she said, holding up a piece of electronic gear. Taking it from her hand, he looked up to where she had been on the roof, and guessed it had come from the solar panels there.

"What is it?" he asked, turning the part over in his hands.

"It's a timer. It's the reason the panels aren't working," she replied. "A two cubit part. Know any good hardware stores?" 

"None that are open today," he said. Flipping the timer over once more, he spotted a scorch mark on the bottom where it had burnt out. Sharon watched with her hands on her hips as he examined it.

"We could jump the circuit," she said after a moment. "But I don't think the system is designed to run twenty-fours a day. It would probably fail under the stress."

He looked up from the hardware in his hand. "Do you think this is a standard part?"

She shrugged. "I would guess so. Why?"

"I know where I can get one."

---

It took him six hours to return to the cabin he had found on their first day back on Caprica. He hadn't found the cabin as much as he had the found the stream that led to it, following the water for half a mile before the abandoned building revealed itself to him. It had been two weeks since his first visit, and the wire cable that had nearly sent him to the ground had managed to hide beneath the leaves once more, but the silver panels of the solar array still hung in plain sight twenty meters above him.

He pulled his rifle off his shoulder and pointed it into the sky, taking aim at the first wire that anchored the panels to the tree tops. With a slow even breath, he steadied himself, pushing the air out of his lungs calmly before squeezing the trigger. He saw the wire snap in two as the shot rang loudly in his ears, filling the silence that surrounded him. The solar panels swung down from the wire and crashed into the tree that still held them, while the sound of his shot echoed off the valley walls, hanging in air for long seconds before finally fading.

Dropping his rifle to the ground, he set his bag beside it and pulled out his knife. The solar panels now dangled from a single cable, hidden from view by the branches and leaves. Walking over to the tree, he tugged once on the cable to see if it would support his weight, and finding that it did, began to climb.

The insulated cable dug into his skin as he pulled himself up to the lowest limb. He lunged out to take it into his hands, catching it and hoisting himself up. Slowly, he made his way upwards, climbing five, then ten, then twenty meters into the air, until he had reached the panels dangling there. The tree limbs had grown thinner as he had climbed higher, and he found himself balancing precariously on one as he searched for the replacement timer. Unable to turn the array without risking a fall from the branch, he placed his knife against the last supporting wire.

"Frak it."

The array fell to forest floor as he cut the cable in two. He followed the panels with his eyes as they impacted with the ground, shattering the reflected halcyon sky into a dozen flashes of silver.

Finished with the task, and exhausted from the climb, he took a moment to recover. The timer would be waiting for him when he got back down, and it was already too late to get home before nightfall.

Resting high in the air, the wind passed through the leaves and over him as he made a mental list of things he would need to salvage from the ghost town. From up here he could see out onto the town below, the thin canopy offering little obstruction to his view. Soon, he knew he would need to go back down there, maybe tomorrow, or the day after. Food was the highest priority, along with water purification tablets and another flashlight to replace the one that died.

Sitting in the branches, he was reminded of what a far cry this life was from the one on Galactica. On Galactica, everything had been provided, and if it wasn't provided, it was because it wasn't available. Here on Caprica, everything was available, and nothing was provided; their life, their existence, would be whatever they made of it.

As his thoughts drifted, his mind screamed.

_Movement._

He stiffened as it registered in his conscience.

_There. Again. Movement._

Something down in the town below was moving. It had been the most minuscule of changes, but he had seen it; a dark spot darting between two buildings once, then twice. And as he watched it appeared again, moving down the main street before vanishing into one of the buildings.

_Into the building._

The clouds shifted above the town, displacing the shadows and making everything move. Helo waited for the object to appear again, focusing tightly through the leaves and sunlight, but it never did. He held his breath as he waited, gripping the tree limb tightly. 

_Cylon or human?_

The answer didn't matter, he knew.

_Or just a cloud? An optical illusion?_

Climbing quickly down the tree, the need to be back with Sharon and Hera overwhelmed him. Cutting the timer loose from the wreckage of the solar panels, he threw it in his bag and started on his way home. Walking at first, his pace slowly increased, growing faster and faster as his mind replayed the image he had seen down in the town below.

If he ran the whole way, he could make it home before dark.

---

The sun had set thirty minutes earlier, but he kept his pace as he jogged up to the house. His lungs burned, leaving a metallic taste in his mouth each time he exhaled. The radio had quit half-way home, and that had only pushed him harder.

A lantern inside the house spilled its light out the doorway, illuminating Sharon who sat perched on the top step of the porch. He didn't see Hera at first, but then spotted her shadow moving just inside the house.

He slowed to a walk as he closed the last ten meters, struggling to steady his ragged breathing. Despite his condition, he smiled as he approached, filled with relief at the sight of her. After running for four hours he still wasn't sure exactly what he had seen from the trees, but the image had driven him mercilessly.

"Hey," she greeted him, standing as he stepped onto the porch.

Without replying, he pulled her into his arms. The sudden embrace brought a laugh from her, a laugh of surprise and delight. It was a sound that had all but disappeared in the wake of Hera's silence.

"I missed you too," she said, still laughing. She returned his embrace, paying no mind to the sweat that slicked his arms and face.

He pulled back so he could look at her, cradling her face in his hands. She smiled back at him, still pleasantly confused by his reaction to seeing her.

"What's up, babe?" she asked with quiet concern.

He wasn't sure what, if anything, he should say. He still wasn't even sure he had seen anything at all. Looking into his wife's eyes, he saw through the smile to the burdens she carried. Between the child growing inside her and the pain of Hera's silence, she had enough to worry about without his over-active imagination. Still staring into her eyes, he decided to keep this burden from her.

"I got it," he said, reaching into his bag and pulling out the replacement part. Her smile grew as she took it and examined it. "Will that work?" he asked.

"You did good," she said, nodding approvingly. Leaning in, she got up on her toes to give him a small kiss, and then another. "Real good," she whispered as she took his hand. "Now sit down before you fall over."

She guided him down to the stairs, and sat beside him. As his rear hit the ground, he felt his exhaustion overtake him and collapsed onto his back. Every muscle in his body ached and it still hurt to breathe. His trip down to the town would have to wait a few days.

"Tired," he said, unable to come up with anything more coherent.

Sharon lay down beside him, moving one of his arms so she could get close. Staring into the rafters, he knew if he closed his eyes he might fall asleep right there on the porch. He felt Sharon's breath on his neck as she turned into him and placed an arm across his chest. Lying there with her, he realized that the fear and worry that had tormented him during his run back was nowhere to be found.

As his mind hovered at the edge of sleep, he turned to look at the woman who had shaped his life so dramatically.

She was beautiful, he thought. More beautiful than the day he had first seen her aboard Galactica; more beautiful then when he had fallen in love with her. There were untold thousands of her people that looked just like her, but none of them shared her beauty. None of them were her.

"Sharon," he whispered, looking into her dark eyes as he searched for the words.

But she didn't give him the chance to find them.

"I love you, Helo," she said, tucking her head into his shoulder and pulling him closer.

She had seen the words in his eyes and stolen them, the way she stole everything from him.

He turned to his side to wrap an arm around her and closed his eyes. Sleep was seconds away, his mind and heart eased by the warmth of her body. A small breeze carried the night air over them, and he remembered their first time on Caprica, the nights they had spent sleeping outside, trying to stay warm, comforting each other as the rain fell.

He opened his eyes once more to make sure it was all real, then closed them and let sleep take him.

"Helo."

His eyes snapped open. The word had not come from Sharon, the voice was not one he had heard before.

Sharon pulled away from him, sitting up and turning to the source of the sound. He did the same, pushing his body off the porch and turning to look into the doorway. 

"Hera?" he said, unsure as he looked at his daughter. He looked over at Sharon to make sure he hadn't imagined the sound of his name being spoken, and saw his own shock mirrored in her expression. "What did you say, Hera?"

Hera seemed to think about the question for a moment, and then looked squarely at him.

"Helo," she said again.

"My god," Sharon whispered. "She said your name."

Helo turned on his knees and made his way over to his daughter, stopping before her and taking her hand. Her eyes stayed fixed on his, watching him calmly. He heard Sharon come up beside him, and now she was kneeling in front of Hera as well. Sharon stared wide-eyed at Hera, her mouth agape at the sound of her daughter's voice speaking her husband's name. 

"Yeah, that's right, you can call me Helo," he said, running a hand over his daughter's curly locks. He looked over at Sharon and then back to Hera. "Who is this, Hera?" he prompted her, nodding towards Sharon.

Hera's eyes stayed locked on him, and with a definitive gesture, she pointed at him and spoke again.

"Helo," she insisted.

He laughed loudly, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Sharon's look of shock melted into a joyous smile of disbelief.

"No, no," Helo said, and then pointed at Sharon. "Who is this?" he asked again. 

And for the first time in her life, Hera looked at Sharon. A tear rolled down Sharon's cheek, and he wasn't sure if she was still breathing. Mother and daughter gazed at one another through identical brown eyes, and Sharon reached out slowly to take Hera's hand.

"Can you say Sharon?" she asked quietly, her voice trembling with hope.

"No," Helo interrupted softly, shaking his head. Sharon looked over at him in confusion as Hera's eyes moved between the two of them. "Can you say mommy?" he asked.

Hera turned back to her mother, studying her carefully. He heard Sharon take a wavering breath as the little girl stared silently at her.

"Mommy," Helo urged quietly, reaching over to place a hand on Sharon's shoulder.

Hera seemed to think about the word itself, tilting her head as she stared at the woman who had carried her in her womb and brought her into the universe.

"Mommy," Hera said, pointing at Sharon.

"My god," Sharon cried as she closed her eyes on the tears that flowed down her cheeks. Pulling her daughter into her arms, she sobbed loudly, making no effort to hide her tears of joy. "Thank you," she said, the words almost unintelligible through her sobs.

Helo placed his hand on Sharon's back, rubbing gently as she cried, holding back his own tears as his heart nearly burst from his chest. Hera looked at her mother calmly, and Helo wondered if she even understood the meaning of what she had said. The answer didn't matter though; she had healed her mother's soul with that single word.

Smiling through her tears, Sharon looked back to Helo. He watched as she tried to collect herself, finally managing to speak. "Can you say daddy?" she asked, her voice breaking on the words.

Hera looked over at him, and he knew in that moment that she understood. She understood the meaning of the words that they spoke, even if she had chosen not to use them herself.

"Helo," she said with confidence, looking straight at her father.

Helo saw Sharon's expression sadden for a moment, but all he could do was laugh. "She's your daughter in every way, isn't she?" he asked, running a hand through Hera's hair and smiling at Sharon. His smile brought Sharon's back, and he looked back to Hera. "Helo is fine, kiddo. Helo is fine."

--- End Chapter 8 --- 


	9. Chapter 9

**Home**  
**Author:** JPBryant  
**Characters:** Sharon/Helo  
**Rating:** Mature, for descriptions of violence, language and sexual situations.  
**Spoilers:** Through 'A Measure of Salvation", everything after that is AU.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
**Summary:** After rescuing Hera from the Cylons, Helo and Sharon try to start a new life. Set after "A Measure of Salvation", it goes completely AU after that.  
**A/N:** The ninth of seventeen chapters to the story, I'll be posting them as I finish them. Thanks to wintergreen126, Lightn, and Jazmin22 - I can't thank them enough for all the time they put into helping me with this.

**Chapter 9**

He stared out through the falling rain to the mountains beyond, where the uppermost trees had already felt the effects of the changing seasons. The brilliant yellows and oranges spread out from the peaks of the hills, and soon the valley itself would be painted in autumnal hues. Sitting in the doorway of the temple and waiting for the storm to pass over, he wondered where the last two months had gone.

A flash of lightning in the clouds above was followed by a slow rolling thunder that made its way through the valley. He rested against the white stonework, just inside the temple and only feet from the pouring rain. The rain splashed against the outside walls, filling the air with its sound, while the inside of the temple remained perfectly silent.

Looking into the sky, he guessed it would be another hour or two before the rain let up and he could return home. The storm was not unlike the others that had come through in the past week, though this one had brought a chill the others had not. He wished he could tell Sharon that he would be late returning, but the radios had died and he had yet to find replacements.

He contemplated heading out into the storm, but there was no real rush beyond his own desire to be with his family. It was his fifth trip down into the town, and he had yet to see any sign of survivors or Cylons during any of them. The speck he had watched from the trees more than a month ago had never surfaced again, though the memory stayed fresh in his mind.

Turning away from the rain, he wandered back into the temple and walked over to the statue of Hestia.

A stop at the temple during each of his trips down had become part of a ritual for him. He had even managed to convince Sharon to spend a few evenings telling him stories of the goddess he had forgotten from his youth. And though his belief was closer to a guess than faith, it was quite possible he was the last living human to worship the goddess of hearth and home.

Setting his pack on the floor, he reached inside and searched for something suitable to offer. Pulling out a can of chili, he hoped Hestia would somehow know how much he liked it, and thus not find insult in its offering. He was always torn between leaving the best or worst of his salvage at the foot of the shrine; after all, the gods could hardly be fastidious these days about who paid tribute or how they did it. 

Turning back to the altar, he placed it beside the cans of corn and soup he had left during his earlier trips.

The sound of the storm was barely audible from where he stood in the center of the pantheon. But looking out the doors, he saw the rain had started falling harder, and another flash of lightning was followed by its companion thunder. He thought of Sharon and Hera back at the house, remembering how his daughter had looked as she slept in her mother's arms that morning.

Walking back to the doorway, he took a seat on the stone floor and waited patiently. Reaching out into the rain, he smiled to himself as the drops of rains splashed off his palm and pooled in the lines of his hand

---

"Helo!" Hera shouted, scrambling as best she could off the porch and running towards him. Her gate was awkward, lacking the appropriate coordination required to advance so quickly, and he moved to intercept her before the inevitable fall. Catching her mid-stride, he scooped her off the ground and into his arms.

"Where you going, kiddo?" he asked, squeezing her tightly.

"Up!" Hera exclaimed, pointing towards the sky.

The sun sat low on the horizon, and the rain that had kept him waiting inside the temple had passed, leaving clear blue skies above them.

Sharon made her way slowly down from the house, smiling at the sight of their daughter in his arms. Wearing her grey sweats, a white shawl was draped over her shoulders to ward off the cool fall air. She pulled the shawl tighter as she approached, then crossed her arms over her stomach to try and warm herself. The bulge in her mid-section could no longer be mistaken for anything but what it was, and he wondered how cold it would be when their second child was born. Looking over Sharon's shoulder, he was thankful for the solar panels and the heat they would help provide when winter arrived in full force. 

"She wants to go back up," Sharon said when she got close. Her warm, familiar smile seemed ever-present these days. "She's been waiting all day for you to take her back up the mountain."

"Up!" Hera repeated, pointing to the sky once more.

"Again?" he asked Hera playfully, poking her lightly in the belly.

She nodded enthusiastically and he soaked it up, smiling like a fool. She had become more and more animated each day, with new words and expressions to share with her overjoyed parents. There were still times when she would go silent and turn inwards, reverting to the child they had first met, but those moments were few and far between.

Sharon leaned in and brushed a lock of hair from Hera's forehead, still smiling softly. There was a peace in her eyes that he had never seen before they had returned to Caprica, a content happiness that followed her all day and all night. On Galactica there had been moments of joy and elation, nights of bliss, and days of success. But there had never been the completeness that he saw in her eyes now.

Looking up into the sky, he knew it would be dark within the hour. The sun would set and the stars would come out, and those fiery points of light were exactly why Hera wanted to go back to the peak of the mountain. 

"You up for a small hike?" he asked Sharon, though he already knew the answer; the shawl had given away her intentions. 

"Sure, babe," she said, hooking a hand under his free arm and pressing herself against him.

He looked back to his daughter. "Let's go, Hera."

---

"Stars! Lots!" Hera said, pointing excitedly into the heavens. "Look mommy!"

He laughed quietly to himself as she gestured at the sky; she had only started pointing days ago, and already it was one of her favorite forms of expression.

"Aren't they beautiful, Hera?" Sharon replied, her body tucked closely against Helo's.

They sat with their backs resting against the one room shack that marked the top of the mountain, while Hera stood a few feet away, staring straight up. If he joined her in standing, he would have been able to see clearly in every direction; down into the town below, as well as into the neighboring valleys. But from the ground he still had an unobstructed view of the horizon, where the last hints of lavender marked the end of the day. Looking up, he saw the stars twinkling against the black canvas, countless thousands of them visible in the night sky.

Sharon rested her head on his shoulder as they both watched their daughter marvel at the lights above, and he remembered a night more than two years ago when they had done the same. It was a night he would never forget, a night that had changed everything for both of them forever. And now they had returned to the place where it all began, with the result of that night standing before them, pointing to the sky.

He snaked his hand under the hem of Sharon's sweater and rested his palm against her stomach. She flinched slightly as his cold hand came into contact with her warm skin, but made no attempt to avoid his touch, taking his hand and holding it in place. As his fingers spread out over her stomach, he knew this night was different than the one from his memory in another important way. That night he had been searching for a way home; tonight he had found it.

Looking back to the stars, he wondered if his own people would ever be so lucky.

"Can you tell me where they are?" Helo asked quietly, and then corrected himself. "Where they were."

Sharon thought about the question for a few moments, then turned her eyes skyward. She searched the stars and then looked back to Helo. "Do you see Aerelon?" she asked.

"Yes," he nodded, finding the five star cluster that marked the home of the colony.

"And the blue star beneath it?" she continued.

His eyes drifted down till he found a star brighter than those around it, light blue in color. "I see it."

"There," she said quietly. He looked away from the spot they had left Galactica, and down to Sharon. She stared into the distance as she spoke again. "But farther than that. Much farther."

Helo looked back to the blue star, and his mind filled with thoughts of friends and comrades. He would never see them again, but the memories of them, and the hopes he had for them, would always be close to his heart.

Before his thoughts could wander too far, though, Hera's voice brought him back to the here and now.

"Names," she said, taking a tiny handful of Sharon's sleeve and tugging it.

"Names?" Sharon repeated, unsure of what her daughter meant.

Hera tugged her mother's arm again, and pointed to the sky. "Names! Names!"

"Oh, okay," she replied as understanding came to her. With a smile, she pulled her girl into her lap and kissed her cheek. "Which one, Hera?" she asked.

Hera pointed towards the sky, and though Helo couldn't make out which star she indicated, Sharon answered without pause. Star after star and constellation after constellation, Hera demanded the names of everything in the sky, and Sharon provided them happily. He wasn't sure from which parent she had gotten her insatiable curiosity, but perhaps it was inevitable that the two of them would create a child so eager to understand the universe.

"That's Picon," he heard Sharon say. "That's where your daddy is from."

Hera glanced over at Helo, then to the sky, and once more back to Helo. He laughed as he saw her trying to work out the problem in her mind. 

"It's not as far away as it looks," he assured the two-year-old.

She seemed to accept the answer, or in the least, forget the question. Looking back to the sky, Hera moved on to another point of light, and Sharon named it for her.

His hand had not moved from Sharon's stomach, and he rubbed it gently as the astronomy lesson continued. It was something he had never been able to do while she carried Hera, with the two of them stuck on opposite sides of a steel cage.

But soon their family would grow by one, another girl, and he couldn't wait to meet her.

"Names," he said, staring up into the sky.

Sharon looked over at him quizzically.

"I like Hestia," he said, splaying his fingers out across her belly and meeting her gaze. "What do you think?"

She bit her lip gently and looked away as she thought about it. "Hera and Hestia," she whispered, digesting the sound of the names together. She stared into the night for a moment, then looked back at him with a smile. "I like it," she said. "It sounds right."

"Yeah?" he asked, smiling back. 

"Yeah," she replied, leaning in for a kiss.

--- 

"Sharon you're too-" he started to whisper, but the sentence was broken in half when she covered his lips with hers, pulling away and laughing with delight at having interrupted him. "You're too loud," he tried again, barely able to keep his own laughter contained.

"Do you want me to stop?" she teased, leaving a trail of kisses across his chest as her naked body pressed against his.

"I didn't say that," he corrected her quietly, running a hand along her smooth side. "But if you wake up Hera we won't have any choice, will we?"

She laughed again, but this time paid heed to his warning and kept it quiet enough so that only he would hear. He wasn't sure how long they had been playing like this, but it had been pitch black outside their window when she woke him, and now the dawn's light was making its way slowly down the walls.

Hera slept in her bed across the room, covered up to her neck in blankets to stay warm, just as they were. He had yet to find a silk comforter for Sharon, but the lack of the luxury hadn't prevented the two of them from making good use of the bed.

"Don't go," she whispered, her legs running sensually over his. "Don't go and I'll be quiet."

"Are you blackmailing me?" he asked with a hushed laugh. He turned to face her, and found a smile stretching from ear to ear.

"Yes," she answered, letting her hand roam slowly down his torso. "I promise you'll be happy you stayed," she purred.

Her words and tone brought a laugh from him, just as she had intended. He quickly bit down on the sound, coughing as he tried his best to keep it inside. Across the room, Hera turned away from the noise, but remained asleep.

"We need food, Sharon," he said once he had composed himself. Turning the tables, he pulled her hands away and pressed his lips hungrily against her neck. "It's been two weeks since we've restocked," he whispered between kisses.

"We have enough food," she replied, squirming under his touch, tilting her head back to give him better access.

"Sharon-"

"One day," she said, pulling his head up to hers and whispering into his lips. "Wait one day."

"You said that yesterday," he replied, his words muted by her kiss.

"One day," she repeated breathlessly.

She was right, he thought. They had enough food. They had a roof over their head. They had water to drink and bathe in. They had blankets and fire for warmth.

They had their daughter.

They had each other.

"Okay," he whispered. "One more day."

---

It was three days before he found the willpower to leave the warmth of the house and Sharon's embrace. Autumn had settled over the valley completely, and the leaves that had been the first to change color were now the first to fall from their branches.

He walked down the main street of the town before turning onto a side-street that would lead him to his final stop before returning home. His pack was heavy with food and clothing for Hera, and he was beginning to rethink the decision he and Sharon had made regarding their stolen ship. He knew keeping it hidden and out of use was the right choice; nothing would give them away faster if the Cylons were watching. But that didn't stop his aching muscles from playing devil's advocate.

The narrow road that led from town to the temple felt as lonely as ever, though the well paved path showed few ill-effects from the years of neglect. A few stray weeds grew between the cracks that had formed in the blacktop, but the temple itself shined brightly in the midday sun.

Walking up to the entrance, though, he slowed his pace. He wasn't sure why at first, but something was out of place.

Reaching the doorway, he stopped dead, and pulled his sidearm from its holster.

A strong gust of wind pushed by him, causing the open doors of the temple to swing freely in its wake.

He had repaired the broken doors during an earlier trip, returning the temple to the condition he had found it in. But the doors he had put so much energy into fixing were now swung wide open, the opposite of how he had left them, and dead leaves had collected in the entrance.

He leaned over to check the latches and found them to be in working order. Without stepping inside, he peered into the temple, but saw no sign of what might have opened the doors.

The wind continued to blow across the valley, sweeping the leaves into the air and pushing them further into the temple. He took a cautious step into the hallway entrance.

"Hello?" he called out, keeping his back against the stone wall as he inched forward.

The dead leaves crackled under his feet as he worked his way further inside, holding his sidearm close to his chest. Slicing the corner slowly, he did his best to keep the stonework between him and main room.

The leaves swirled along the ground as another gust of wind from outside reached him. He stopped, pressing his back hard against the wall as he thought about his next move. If there was someone inside, they weren't replying.

_Of course not._

He frowned as his mind worked through the logic. Of course they weren't replying; there was nobody there. In nearly three months on the planet the closest he had come to seeing another living being was a black speck to which he had bestowed life while sitting at the top of a tree.

But logic did nothing to ease his mind, as his instincts kept him from stepping out into the open.

Looking down, he checked his firearm to make sure a round was in the chamber. With his free hand, he reached into his pack and blindly pulled out a can of food, then placed the pack on the floor. Steeling himself, he closed his eyes and imagined the room, walking through what he was about to do.

Opening his eyes, he counted silently to three, and threw the can as hard as he could into the room.

A split second later he followed it in, dashing towards the nearest pillar. He scanned the room in an instant as he stepped in, his eyes and his sidearm searching for a target. The can hit far wall with bang, falling to the floor as he reached the pillar and took cover. 

_Nothing._

The sound of the slowly rolling can was the only sound that reached his ears. His mind processed the image he had seen as he ran into the room, and came up empty. There had been no motion, no sound, nothing out of place.

_Did you really expect anything else?_

He straightened up against the pillar and took a deep breath. Peeking around the edge of it, his eyes confirmed what he already knew; he was the only person in the room.

He shook his head, though he couldn't quite manage a smile. Holstering his weapon, he wondered how long it would take until he really believed they were alone.

Wandering over to the far wall, he leaned over and picked up the battered can. The lid had bent off on impact, and the can had left a trail of corn and water as it rolled away. A few stray kernels even remained stuck to the stone wall itself. The sight brought out the smile that he hadn't been able to muster before.

"At least Hera will be happy," he said, placing the can upright; corn was low on his daughter's list of edibles. He scraped the kernels off the wall, flicking them off his fingers when they stuck to him. Looking down at the mess of wasted food and brown leaves that littered the floor of the shrine, he tried to figure out how best to clean it all up.

He walked back to his pack, shaking his head again at the foolishness of the entire episode. Lifting the pack off the floor, he laughed to himself as he imagined the sight of can of corn flying through the air while he ducked for cover from a non-existent enemy.

He headed over to the statue of Hestia, looking through his pack as he walked. Pulling out a can of preserved fish, he looked up and stopped. 

_Gone._

He froze in place.

_Gone._

Dropping the can to the floor, he quickly drew his weapon back out of its holster, and searched the room. It was as empty as it had been when he first entered, but he was not alone.

He turned back to the empty altar, devoid of the offerings he had left during his previous visits. Hooking his pack over his shoulders, he ran back to the entrance and looked out into the valley. The peaceful, relaxed feeling he come to associate with the view from the temple doorway was gone, and he doubted it would ever return.

--- 

"Sharon," he called out, flying up the porch steps. His footsteps echoed loudly off the wood planks as he opened the front door and stepped in.

"Here," she called from up the stairs.

Dropping his bag at the foot of the staircase, he made his way up to the bedroom. There he found Sharon sitting on the floor with her back resting against Hera's bed, a book in her hand. Hera sat beside her mother, looking away from the story Sharon had been reading to her and up to Helo.

"You okay, babe?" Sharon asked with concern.

He realized that his expression must have reflected the troubles in his mind, and tried to relax the muscles in his jaw. But the look in his eyes had already revealed his thoughts to her.

She looked over at Hera, contemplating the change of reality, then turned back to Helo.

"Human?" she asked quietly.

He shook his head as he walked over. "I don't know." Taking a seat beside her, he stared at the floor and slowly unlaced his boots. "They took my offerings from the temple," he said. "I didn't see them."

"They know we're here," she said. It was a statement, not a question, but he nodded in acknowledgment. He glanced over at Hera, who was watching her parents intently, trying to understand tones she had never heard before. Sharon stared through him as she thought. "Not Cylon," she whispered to herself.

"What?" he asked.

"Most Cylons would never enter that building," she replied, her voice as distant as her gaze. "None would steal from it."

He thought about her answer, but human or Cylon, it didn't really matter. He was human, she was Cylon, and neither race would understand why one was with the other; in the time since his first stay on the planet, he had learned that both races were equal threats to his family.

"Human," Sharon said definitively, breaking out of her own thoughts and focusing on Helo. "Maybe they're like us, Helo. Maybe they just want to be left alone." 

He stared forward, digesting her words. "Maybe." 

"It's been nearly three months," she said, shaking her head. "They probably don't want anything to do with us." 

"Maybe," he repeated, uncomfortable with her conclusions. They were hopeful, and he wouldn't take them from her. He understood why she needed them; he understood why she wanted nothing in their lives to change.

He had unlaced his boots, but didn't slip them off. Walking down the stairs, he checked his sidearm once more, leaving the round in the chamber before stepping outside. The rest of the day was spent staring through a pair of binoculars at the town below. He watched until the sun set behind him, and even then he remained on the porch, searching by the light of the stars and moon.

It took Sharon waiting outside in the cold with him before he finally relented and went back into the house. And after they had all eaten some dinner and prepared for bed, he stared out the window while Sharon tucked Hera in for the night. 

She didn't say anything when he placed his loaded sidearm into the drawer of the night stand before joining her in bed. There was a sadness about her as she held him in the darkness, but she kept her silence, drifting off to sleep without a word.

And though he wasn't sure when he finally fell asleep himself, he would remember the moment he woke up for the rest of his life, as a series of loud knocks echoed through the house.

--- End Chapter 9 --- 


	10. Chapter 10

**Home**  
**Author:** JPBryant  
**Characters:** Sharon/Helo  
**Rating:** Mature, for descriptions of violence, language and sexual situations.  
**Spoilers:** Through 'A Measure of Salvation", everything after that is AU.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
**Summary:** After rescuing Hera from the Cylons, Helo and Sharon try to start a new life. Set after "A Measure of Salvation", it goes completely AU after that.  
**A/N:** The tenth of seventeen chapters to the story, I'll be posting them as I finish them. Thanks to wintergreen126, Lightn, and Jazmin22 - I can't thank them enough for all the time they put into helping me with this.

**Chapter 10**

His sidearm was in his hand before his feet hit the floor.

The sound had awoken Sharon as well, and across the room Hera was stirring in her bed. Sharon moved to the edge of the bed to stand up, but he stopped her. 

"Stay here," he said, grabbing the flashlight off the top of the night stand.

"I'm coming with you," she insisted as another series of knocks echoed through the house.

"No," he said. "Stay here with Hera."

He saw the look in Sharon's eyes, and for a moment he thought she would argue. But then she glanced across the room at Hera, and nodded.

"Okay," she agreed. "Helo, be-"

"If I'm not back in five minutes, you know what do," he said, cutting her off. "Don't wait for me."

"Helo-"

"Don't wait, Sharon," he repeated, forcefully interrupting her again. "Okay?"

She closed her eyes tightly, shaking her head at the thought. More than a month ago they had made plans for a moment like this, but now he doubted she could follow through.

"Sharon, listen to me," he said, his voice calm, though he was anything but. "You need to-" 

"I know," she replied before he could finish. Her voice lowered to a whisper as she opened her eyes and looked at Hera once more. "I know."

He watched her for a moment, just long enough to know that she would do what needed to be done. Looking into her eyes, he saw the conflict there, but also the resolve he searched for.

"Stay here," he said whispered. "I'll be right back."

She looked up at him, but then turned quickly away as her emotions threatened to overwhelm her. Walking over to Hera's bed, she didn't look back.

"Hera, wake up," she said. 

His eyes stayed on Sharon as she lifted their daughter out of bed and into her arms. The moon light coming through the window silhouetted their bodies, painting the edges of them in shades of blue. He looked at Sharon, at the child she carried in her arms, at the child she carried in her body, and hoped it wouldn't be the last time he did. Turning away, he headed towards the stairs.

The ground floor was dark, hiding his movement completely. He leveled his gun at the front door as he made his way down the steps, and another loud knock reverberated through the house. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he thought about emptying the rounds in his sidearm straight through the door.

Sliding quietly through the front room, he made his way towards the kitchen, maneuvering through the darkened house on memory alone. When he reached the back door, he waited, trying to calm his racing heart. Another series of knocks filled the air and he pushed the door open, the squeak of the hinges drowned out by the raps at the front of the house.

Dressed in only his boxers, the cold air of the night assaulted him, but his focus didn't waver. He rested his finger on the trigger as he stepped onto the freezing turf and crept towards the front of the house. Reaching the side of the porch, he waited again for another knock before taking the final step. He held his breath as he waited, swallowing hard as an eternity passed without a sound.

The door rattled once more, and Helo stepped out.

He aimed his weapon directly at the man's head, though the stranger had yet to see him in the darkness. Green fatigues appeared grey in the moon light, but even through the thick clothing Helo could tell the man matched him in height and was close in build.

"Stop," Helo commanded. 

The sound startled the man, who turned quickly; too quickly for Helo's liking. Turning on his flashlight, he shined it straight into the bearded man's eyes, quickly checking to make sure his hands were empty. As he did, the man lifted his arms to shield himself from the bright light, and the motion nearly cost him his life. Helo's finger twitched on the trigger at the sudden movement, but his training kept him from squeezing it.

"Stop!" Helo shouted again. "Don't move!"

The man seemed to realize the danger he was in, and held his hands above his head, squinting into the light as he stood still. With a moment to examine the man, he saw that the stranger barely qualified, being no more than twenty years of age.

"Don't shoot," the man pleaded, pushing his hands further into the air. "Please, don't shoot."

With his flashlight and weapon locked tightly on the man, he scanned the darkness. He looked to the trees and out into the clearing, but saw no sign of anyone else.

"Are you alone?" Helo demanded, looking back to the man.

"Alone?" the man said, stuttering over the word. The question seemed to take him aback. "Of...of course I'm alone."

Helo stepped to his left, his aim never wavering. "What do you mean 'of course'?"

The man shook his head slightly, and let out a nervous laugh. "You're...you're the first living person I've seen in more than a year," he said, and then managed another small laugh. "Gods, I thought I was the last person alive on Caprica."

A good ten meters separated Helo and the stranger, and Helo kept the distance as he circled to the front of the porch. The man appeared as harmless as he was frightened, truly surprised to find another living soul.

Who are you?

The question demanded to be asked, but Helo didn't. He didn't want to know.

"How did you survive?" Helo asked, lowering the light from the man's eyes, though he kept his weapon trained on him.

The man lowered his hands slightly, and shrugged. "I was...I was up in these hills, you know, camping with some friends," he said. "The Cylons attacked and I hid. The same way you did, I guess."

It was a flawed assumption, but Helo felt no need to correct it, or give this stranger any more information than he already had. He already knew where they lived, and that was too much. But looking at the young man, he couldn't help but feel for him, left alone on a dead world. 

"Where are your friends?" Helo asked quietly, lowering his weapon. "What happened to them?"

"The Cylons happened," the stranger replied. He shook his head and looked at the ground, then back to Helo. "They thought it was safe in town, you know? I told them not to go but...but they didn't listen." 

He could hear the loss in the man's voice, but as the man spoke, Helo tried to figure out what to do next. Aware of the passing seconds, and his family waiting for him, Helo put the question plainly.

"What do you want?" Helo asked.

"What...what do I want?" the man asked, confused by the question. "I don't want anything, man. I just wanted to see if you were real, you know? I mean, I've been up here for two frakking years. I haven't spoken to anyone in so long I almost forgot how to do it."

Helo nodded his understanding, but curiosity or a need for company wasn't enough for him to let the man stay.

"The Cylons," the stranger said, speaking before Helo could. "They've left Caprica?"

"Yeah," Helo replied. "They've left." 

The man shook his head slowly as he thought about Helo's answer. "So it's just you and me, huh?"

Helo didn't reply, the clock in his head moving slowly toward the five minute mark. Sharon would be making her way towards their stolen Raider in less than two minutes, and he needed this man to leave before that happened. There was no time for this conversation, no time to explain the presence of a Cylon, and no place for this man in the life he and Sharon had made for themselves.

"I need you to leave," Helo said flatly.

"Huh?" the man replied, confused by the request. "What are you talking about?"

"I want you to go," Helo continued. "I want you to leave, and not come back. Not ever. Do you understand?"

"Wait...wait a second," the man said, "I didn't walk all this way just-"

"I understand why you came up here, and I'm sorry," Helo cut him off, pointing at the town below. "But I don't want you here. I want you to leave now, and not..."

Helo never finished the sentence.

He had looked out into the dark valley for the briefest of moments, and when his eyes returned to stranger at his door, he was greeted by the silver glint of a gun barrel. Helo didn't know where it had come from, but it was aimed squarely at him.

"I'm not going anywhere," the stranger said calmly as he stepped down the porch, keeping the weapon aimed at Helo. "Not until I get what I came for. Now, drop the gun."

Helo hesitated as the words echoed in his head, and the man thrust his sidearm menacingly at Helo's head.

"Do it, right, frakking now!" the man shouted, his tone shifting in a heartbeat from calm to enraged. 

_Sixty seconds._

He started counting down silently in his head as he set the sidearm into the grass. Sharon would be gone in less than sixty seconds and that was all that mattered; in sixty seconds he would figure out how to save himself, but that was a secondary goal.

"The flashlight too," the man ordered. "Leave it there."

Helo did as the man said, then stood slowly, taking as much time as he could He watched the man carefully, looking for any sign of weakness or fear, but seeing how the man held his weapon, Helo had little doubt that the stranger had killed before.

"What now?" Helo asked calmly, displaying his empty palms.

"Inside," the man said, gesturing towards the door with his free hand.

Helo didn't move, letting the seconds tick by. He wasn't sure how far he could push this man, but he would push him as far as he had to, as far as he could to keep him away from Sharon and Hera.

"What do you want?" Helo asked, holding his ground.

A flash from the muzzle of the weapon bathed everything in light for a single moment, as a round buried itself in the ground in front of Helo. The sound of the shot echoed off the trees, and the man aimed his weapon back at Helo's head.

"I want you to go inside," the man said, his voice teetering between patience and rage.

There was a trace of madness in the man's tone, where animal instinct had replaced humanity. Helo knew that the man was the worst kind of survivor, the kind who lived off the weakness of the universe and those who occupied it.

"Okay," Helo agreed, moving slowly towards the porch.

_Thirty seconds._

The man stepped back as Helo approached, keeping distance between the two of them. Reaching for the door, Helo pulled it open and stepped inside the pitch black house.

"Turn on the light," the man said. "I saw it earlier. Turn it on."

Helo walked into the living room, listening carefully for sounds from upstairs, but heard none.

_Twenty Seconds._

"Is this what happened to your friends?" Helo asked when he reached the lantern. Flicking the switch, the room was filled with white light and shadows.

"It was them or me," the man chuckled, still standing in the doorway, still keeping his sidearm aimed at Helo. "An easy choice, don't you think?"

"And the rest of what you said?" Helo continued. "About being the only survivor?"

"Oh, that's true, I'm afraid," the man said, nodding his head and arching his eyebrows.

_Ten seconds._

"Did you kill the rest of them?" Helo asked, unconcerned with the answer. Time was all he wanted.

He smiled knowingly at Helo. "It's been a lonely two years for me," he said, his wicked smile growing. "But you have something that I'm hoping will change that."

Helo felt the muscles in his body tense at the man's words. His hands balled into fists, his nails digging into the soft flesh of his palms as he reached the end of his countdown.

_Zero._

A second light came from up the stairs, and his heart stopped.

She hadn't left.

"Sharon, run!" he yelled, but it was too late. He watched as the man's aim shifted off of him and onto Sharon who had appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Now this," the man started, pausing as he admired Sharon dressed in her cotton night clothes. "This is why I'm here."

Helo took a step towards the stranger, stopping when the man fired a round into wall beside Sharon. She flinched as the round landed close, but she didn't move from her spot. The man kept his aim on her as he looked back to Helo.

"I'll kill her," the man said, still smiling. "It would break my heart, but I'll do it if you make me."

Helo looked up at Sharon, but her eyes were locked on the stranger in their house.

_Run, Sharon! Run, Gods dammit!_

Despite his silent pleas, she didn't move. The seconds that had seemed to move by so quickly before, now stretched to impossible lengths as time slowed to nothing.

"This is really simple," the man said, looking between Sharon and Helo. "You can let me take what I want, or I can kill you both."

Anger surged through Helo as he stared at the man.

They had come so far, and now this man, this thing, in front of him threatened to end it all. There was no humanity left inside this man, yet Helo hated him in a way he had never hated a person before.

An image came to his mind, and Helo knew he would make it real.

"Leave," Helo said, his voice trembling with fury. Flexing the muscles in his hands, he prepared to move. "Leave now."

The man laughed loudly, then shook his head. "No, I don't think that's going to happen."

"Don't you know what she is?" Helo said calmly, readying the muscles in his legs as he reached back for the lantern. "She's a Cylon."

Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he waited for the man to look at Sharon, and he knew in seconds it would all be over. One of them would die, and one of them would live. But he wasn't going to wait for this man to decide who. 

"A Cylon?" the man repeated, incredulous. He turned to look at Sharon.

The lantern was out of Helo's hand, sailing through the air towards the man's head. Rotating in the air, the shadows it created spun with the light, twisting the room. Helo charged after it, feinting to his left before moving back to the right, leg muscles taught as he prepared to leap at the man; but he never did.

He watched in slow motion as the man turned the gun on him, and in that moment, he knew he wouldn't reach him.

He didn't stop.

There was a flash from the barrel of the gun, but he heard no sound. He felt a tug on his chest, as if the safety restraints from a Raptor had held him in place. Stopped short, he watched in silence as the lantern flew over the man's shoulder, missing its mark by half a meter. The lantern rotated through space, leaving them in darkness for a fraction of a second.

The next flash of light came from the top of the stairs, and when the lantern completed its rotation, he saw Sharon's first round catch the man in the throat, tearing it out. The lantern turned over once more, and another flash of light appeared from Sharon's weapon, removing the back of the stranger's skull from his head.

The lantern sailed on, flying into the next room as Helo collapsed to the floor, unable to breathe.

His chest was wet. He tried to reach up and find the wound, but his left arm wouldn't respond. His right arm came up, and could find nothing through the blood that soaked his chest and neck. Dropping his arm to his side, he found the effort too much for him and stared up at the ceiling.

"Helo!" Sharon cried, though the sound was far away. He felt her hands pressing firmly down on his chest. "Oh god..."

His back was wet now too, though the wetness provided a warmth that the rest of his body seemed to lack. He tried to look up at Sharon, lifting his head from the floor. A stream of warmth traveled down the back of his neck as he did so.

He saw Hera standing at the foot of the stairs watching as Sharon pulled off her shirt and pressed it to his chest. Resting his head in the warm pool of blood, he stared back up into the ceiling . Sharon shouted something, but he couldn't make out the words.

Vaguely, it registered in his mind that he was dying, and he thought about his life. Finding no regrets, he closed his eyes.

--- End Chapter 10 --- 


	11. Chapter 11

**Home**  
**Author:** JPBryant  
**Characters:** Sharon/Helo  
**Rating:** Mature, for descriptions of violence, language and sexual situations.  
**Spoilers:** Through 'A Measure of Salvation", everything after that is AU.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
**Summary:** After rescuing Hera from the Cylons, Helo and Sharon try to start a new life. Set after "A Measure of Salvation", it goes completely AU after that.  
**A/N:** The eleventh of seventeen chapters to the story, I'll be posting them as I finish them. Thanks to wintergreen126, Lightn, and Jazmin22 - I can't thank them enough for all the time they put into helping me with this.

**Chapter 11**

He held his daughters, one in each arm. Hera in his left and Hestia in his right. 

He looked at Hestia, so much smaller than her older sister, brought into the universe only days before. Hera rested quietly against him, her curly locks tickling his neck as she studied her new sibling.

He turned his attention to the other occupant of the kitchen. Her silver-grey hair curled over her shoulders, and he wondered if Hera's would look the same in fifty years. Looking back to his daughters, he admired them each in turn. He had never seen anything so wonderful in his entire life.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" he asked.

The older woman didn't answer immediately, preoccupied with washing the dishes in the sink. 

"In their own way," she replied after a moment, her attention still focused on cleaning up the evening meal.

He looked up at her, unhappy with the answer. "What does that mean? In their own way?" he asked. "They're part you."

"They are what they are," she said after another small pause. "Different."

"No," he replied. "They're just kids."

"You don't really believe that do you, Karl?" She turned off the water and reached up to dry her hands on a towel. "You know that's not true."

Hestia cried softly, and he set Hera down to focus on the mewling infant. He cradled his youngest daughter in his arms, trying to soothe her, but she continued to cry. 

"I know everything I need to," he said. "They're my children, and I love them. That's all that matters. I hoped you would understand."

She turned away from the sink and looked at him.

"I understand, Karl," she said softly. "How could I not?"

He looked down at the girl in his arms, then to Hera standing beside him. "But you don't love them," he said, unable to hide the sadness he felt.

She walked slowly over to him, resting a hand on his arm. "Is it so important to you?"

"Yes," he whispered. "They need a family." 

"They have their mother," she replied.

He looked up at the woman who had brought him into existence, and remembered another woman who had done the same.

"Sharon," he said, and the world turned black.

He tried to pull Hestia close to his chest, but his arms were empty. He tried to find Hera in the darkness, but there was nothing to see.

_I've lost them._

Panic coursed through him.

"Sharon," he cried. 

He felt a hand rest gently on his forehead, ice cold against his burning flesh. His body trembled uncontrollably.

"I'm here," a voice said.

His eyes were open, but still he saw nothing.

"Sharon?" he repeated, his teeth rattling as he tried to say her name.

"I'm here, Helo," she said, squeezing his hand. "I'm here."

The sound of her voice and the feel of her touch cut through the fire and pain that consumed him. The fear that had filled him moments ago faded, though he could no longer remember why he had been afraid, or what had banished his fear. He tried to recall what he had forgotten, but the thought was lost before it was finished.

The heat was unbearable.

The air itself burned around him, though the small fire in the center of the room was barely large enough to illuminate it. Flickering in the darkness, the pale orange light of the flame reflected off the white stone walls.

He stepped closer to the fire and the woman tending it, the heat buffeting against his skin as the flames danced.

"Welcome," she greeted him.

He didn't reply, unable to focus through the inferno that surrounded him. Pushing through the blazing air, he reached the edge of the fire and looked at the woman across from him. 

"Please," she said, gesturing to the floor. "Sit." 

He did as she asked, crossing his legs and taking a seat on the stone. The heat from the flames licked at his face as sweat gathered and fell from his brow.

"I wanted to thank you," she said, the light from the flames catching in her eyes. "Thank you, Karl Agathon, for taking care of my home."

He nodded silently as a bead of sweat rolled down his cheek.

"I used to take such things for granted," she continued, looking back to her fire and tending it with a long staff. "Before your wife and her people tried to extinguish me and my kin from the universe." 

He shook his head, drops of perspiration falling to the floor as he found the ability to speak.

"You're a god," he said. "You can't die."

"We are only what people believe we are," she replied. "Without believers, we are nothing."

Every breath of the blistering air brought a searing pain to his lungs, but he pushed the sensation from his mind as he tried to concentrate on the woman's words.

"You, on the other hand, are defined by your choices," she continued. "And your choices have taken you from the path you and your family were meant for."

"We made the choices we had to," he replied.

She lifted her eyes from the fire and looked at him through the flames.

"But every choice has a price," she said.

The heat continued to exhaust life from him, and he struggled to remain upright as he spoke.

"We've paid for our choices already," he managed, catching himself with his hands as he collapsed forward. "No one can deny that. Not even the Gods." 

He looked back at her to see she smiled softly, a smile of compassion and pity.

"No, we cannot," she said, and the fire died, leaving the room in darkness.

But though the light of the fire was gone, the heat persisted. His body was slick with sweat, the sheets beneath him cold and wet. It hurt to breath, so he tried not to.

He opened his eyes, and there was the faintest glimmer of light.

She was there, sitting in a chair beside him. Her head rested on the bed, cushioned by her crossed arms, and he could hear the sound of her breath, slow and even.

He tried to call her name, but the world faded before the sound could leave his lips.

Rising from the bed, he made his way slowly across the room and back. She hadn't come back yet, and he was beginning to worry. She had never been late, never been gone long enough for him to fear she wouldn't return.

He glanced up at the clock on the wall, but the hands had stopped moving.

Pacing back and forth, he sat back down on the bed and tried to calm himself. A set of eyes watched him as he waited, but he had grown used to their constant presence, and did his best to ignore them.

_One, two, three, four..._

He counted the rivets in the metal floor, until a shadow appeared over his shoulder and brought him to his feet.

She carried Hera in her arms as she approached the wall of steel and glass. But he knew something was wrong the moment he saw her. Her eyes were dull and lifeless, sunken into the dark circles that surrounded them. She tried to smile as she lifted the receiver, but there was no happiness in the expression.

Walking across the cell, he picked up the receiver on his side of the wall.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

He saw that she was on the verge of tears and hated that he couldn't reach her, hold her like he wanted to.

"I have to leave, Helo," she said quietly. "I have to go, now." 

"Wh..." His voice caught in his throat, fear welling up inside him. "What?"

"I need to leave Helo," she said. 

His pulse quickened as she spoke. She and Hera were all he had, everything he had left. And now she was leaving.

"What are you talking about, Sharon?" he asked, unable to hide the anxiety her words had created. But her expression remained unchanged, as though she hadn't heard him.

"I've waited as long as I can," she continued. "I need to find food for Hera." 

"Sharon, wait-"

"I'm going to take the ship," she said, oblivious to his objection. "I know we decided not to, but I'm not feeling so well myself. I don't think I could make it there and back."

He pressed his hand against the glass wall and looked down at his wife. She had grown bigger since he last saw her, bigger than she had ever been with Hera. She had trouble carrying their daughter over the bulge.

"Sharon," he pleaded into the receiver. "Wait for me."

But again she was unable to hear his desperate need.

"I'll be back before sunset," she said.

"Sharon-"

"I promise."

He dropped the receiver and shouted her name, banging on the glass with his fists, the sound echoing loudly off the four walls of his cell.

He watched as she hung the phone up calmly, then knelt down to set their daughter on the ground. She kissed Hera lightly on the cheek, smiling at the little girl and brushing her hair from her face. Leaning over, she whispered something in Hera's ear, then stood and looked back at him one last time.

"Sharon," he said softly, his forehead resting against the glass wall.

Without another word, she turned and walked away.

---

"Helo."

He woke to small but steady tugging on his arm. His eyes opened slowly, and he was greeted by the light of the setting sun fading slowly from the room.

He blinked twice, and took a breath.

_I need to leave Helo._

"Helo," he heard a voice say. Lying on his back, he turned his head and saw his daughter kneeling on the chair beside him, her tiny hand gripping his bicep.

"Hera," he tried to say, but no sound came out. It hurt to speak, but he tried again. "Hera," he managed, the skin on his lips cracking when he smiled at her.

She tugged his arm again. "Hungry," she said.

_I've waited as long as I can._

He found the task of pushing himself off the bed to be almost beyond him, the muscles in his arms barely having the strength necessary. They trembled from the effort, but he finally managed to sit up and swing his legs off the side of the bed.

"Sharon," he called out, the sound barely loud enough to reach the other side of the room.

His face itched, and he reached up to scratch his neck and chin, discovering a thick layer of stubble covering both. It hurt to breathe, and the pain radiated from the left side of his chest. Looking down, he saw a set of sutures just below his collar bone, a field of badly bruised flesh surrounding the wound. 

Standing up slowly, he made his way towards the stairs, with Hera following closely behind. His legs wobbled uncertainly as he took each step one at a time, holding onto the handrail as firmly as he could.

Hera stood beside him as he reached the bottom of the stairs, and when he turned to search the rooms, the world began to spin. Falling to a knee, he closed his eyes to try and stop the motion.

"Hungry," Hera said again from behind him. "I'm hungry."

He opened his mouth to reply, but the urge to vomit forced it shut. A moment later, a set of dry-heaves overtook him, and a surge of bile burned his already aching esophagus. He let the mix of saliva and acids slip from his lips as he tried to regain control of his body.

When he was finally able, he stood back up, leaning against the wall and taking a few painful breaths. He had never felt so battered or weak in his entire life, but he found it impossible to focus on the pathetic condition of his own body. 

"Sharon," he called out again, ignoring the pain that it caused.

Mustering his energy, he stepped out onto the porch and stared into the silent twilight. He held onto the railing to keep himself standing.

"Where's mommy?" Hera asked, looking up at him through her dark eyes.

He knelt down beside her, steadying himself with his hand as he reached the wooden deck. There was fear in her eyes, a fear felt inside himself.

_I'm taking the ship, Helo._

"How long has she been gone, Hera?" he asked.

Hera shrugged. "Long."

A chill ran down his spine as heard his daughter's answer. Swallowing painfully, he tried to smile for her.

"Mommy will be back real soon, honey," he said, nodding reassuringly. "Let's find you some food, okay?"

He opened the door and waited for her to go inside. Looking back out from the porch, he searched desperately, but there was nothing to see.

Grabbing the lantern from the front room, he turned it on and led Hera to the kitchen. She scrambled into one of the chairs at the large table, and waited for him. Opening the cabinets, he found them almost completely bare.

In the last cabinet, he found a few protein bars and pulled them out. Snapping off a piece, he offered it to Hera. Making no effort to hide her dislike, she ate it anyways, chewing slowly and taking her time between swallows.

He broke the rest of the bar into small pieces and set them on the table in front of her. Sitting down beside her, he opened another bar, and took a bite himself.

_I don't think I could make it there and back._

He found himself pushing open the front door, and stepping back out onto the porch. Fear and helplessness flooded through him as he stared into the dark.

"Sharon!" he shouted, tearing the soft flesh of his throat. "Sharon!"

The door creaked opened behind him, and he turned to see Hera trying to squeeze through, her hands full of pieces of protein bar.

"I'm sorry, Hera," he said quickly, realizing he had forgotten her. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to leave you."

She didn't say anything, but walked to the top step of the porch and sat down. Spreading the bits of food in her lap, she stared out into the night. 

He joined his daughter on the porch step, and silently they searched together for her mother.

Time passed, and every moment he sat upright was a moment his frail body protested. But he never left the porch or laid back, for fear that he would miss her return. Hera ate in silence, dividing her attention equally between her meal and a point on the distant horizon. He tried to figure out what she was looking at, but whatever she saw there eluded him.

The heavens revolved slowly above them, as the night wore on, but neither took note of the beauty. He glanced to the stars from time to time, but only in a hopeless search for the lights of the stolen Cylon ship. Listening to the silent night, he thought he heard the sound of the ship's engines time after time, standing up on one occasion to get a glimpse of a ship that wasn't there.

It was in the early morning hours when Hera fell asleep against him, her head resting on his thigh. Somehow he found the strength to carry her up to bed and tuck her in, and then returned to the porch on unsteady legs and collapsed there.

And when the sun first peeked over the horizon, he stared into it, letting the image burn into his retinas.

_I'll be back before sunset. _

He closed his eyes, but the image remained.

_I promise._

Memories came unbidden and he tried to push them away; the sight of her smile, the sound of her laugh, the smell of her skin. He needed them all.

And they were gone.

Standing up, he felt the warmth of the Caprican sun on his cold skin. But the heat it offered was secondary to the light it provided.

He went inside and emptied his pack, making room for medicine and blankets. Grabbing what was left of the protein bars, he threw them in as well, then headed upstairs and changed into his fatigues.

Every motion hurt, each step as unsure as the last, but he ignored it all. 

"Hera," he said, leaning over her bed and shaking her gently. "Wake up, Hera."

Her eyes opened slowly, then searched the room.

"Where's mommy?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"I don't know," he whispered, lifting her out of the bed.

Dressing her warmly, he followed Hera as she walked down the stairs, then picked up his pack from the front room. They stepped out into the cool morning air, and he said goodbye to their home.

---

He let Hera set the pace as they walked down the mountain. It was slow, too slow, but he didn't think his body was capable of more. Focusing on each step, he centered his mind on the progress instead of the pain.

It took more than two hours to make it down to the base of the hill, a trip that normally took him thirty minutes. The morning sun rose steadily higher into the sky, the long shadows of dawn growing shorter with each passing hour. He kept his eyes open for any sign of Sharon or the ship, but there was nothing to see beyond the familiar fields and trees that marked the path down to the town.

Hera had begun to slow down by the time they reached the floor of the valley, and half-way into town she stopped completely. She didn't cry or make a sound as exhaustion made it impossible for her to go any further; she simply sat and stared into the distance.

"Come on, Hera," he encouraged her gently. Kneeling beside her, he ran a hand over her back. "We're almost there," he said.

She looked up at him but said nothing. Looking down at his little girl, he knew she had no more energy than he did.

"You did good, Hera," he said, smiling at her.

With an even breath, he took in her in his hands and lifted her into his arms. A pain shot through his left side, but he didn't let her go or set her down. 

"Hold onto me," he said, his breathing labored as the pain persisted. She took a fistful of his clothing in each hand, and did as he asked. "Let's go," he whispered.

He lost track of the number times he had to stop, and by noon, there was nothing left in his stomach. No food, no water, no bile; all of it had been left on the path behind them. But after each stop, he found the last ounce of energy he needed to lift his daughter off the ground and continue on.

It was early afternoon by the time they reached town, and Hera had fallen asleep on his back. He tried not to wake her as he walked down the empty streets, silent except for the sound of his feet on the pavement.

Shops and homes of all types lined the main street, all empty and owner-less. At every intersection he stopped to look down the side-streets for any sign of the ship, each search proving as fruitless as the last, until he reached the center of town.

Making the last turn onto the market square, he lifted his hand to shield his eyes from sun, and suddenly he found it was no longer difficult to breathe; it was completely impossible.

Shining brightly in the afternoon sun, the ship rested beside a lifeless fountain in the middle of the square. Its rear hatch hung wide open, the long ramp resting on the cobblestone ground.

"Sharon," he called out as he jogged toward the ship, every ache and pain forgotten.

The metal grates of the ramp rattled loudly as he stepped onto them, echoing loudly through the ship's cabin. Reaching the top of the ramp, he nearly tripped over a can of food, kicking it across the deck of the ship.

The top of the ramp was littered with food and supplies, an overturned cardboard box lying nearby. Seven other boxes sat neatly against the wall, stacked perfectly together, just as Sharon would. At his feet, a smashed jar of preserved fruit sat in a puddle of liquid, the broken shards of glass mixing with the rest of the contents.

He turned to look around the empty square, dead buildings surrounding him on all four sides.

"Sharon," he cried out desperately.

But there was no answer, no sign; nothing to help him find his way. Just as there had never been.

He set Hera down as gently as he could, dropping her the last six inches. Walking slowly to the front of the ship, he saw no sign of his wife, or what might have happened to her.

Sitting in the pilot's seat, he dropped his head into his hands and closed his eyes. 

He heard a sound behind him and turned to see Hera standing where he had left her at the top of the ramp. She stared out into the distance, then cupped her hands around her mouth in imitation of her father.

"Sharon" she cried as loud as she could.

The sound of her name leaving Hera's lips wrecked him. Standing up, he walked over to the girl who needed Sharon as much as he did. 

"Hera," he whispered, walking up behind his daughter. "Come with me."

Hera followed him as he walked down the ramp. He headed towards the nearest building, lifted his sidearm, and shot the lock off the front door. Stepping inside, he found no trace of Sharon, and moved to the next building.

He knew it might take days to search every building. He didn't care if it took weeks.

The next shop was as empty as the last, but he didn't stop. Building after building he repeated the process; kicking in doors, smashing shop glass and shooting his way into each store and home. He made no effort to hide his presence, praying she was near enough to hear, and not caring if anyone else did.

After a few hours he stopped long enough to feed his daughter. She devoured the chocolate bars and canned peaches as he stared out across the town. He had no appetite himself, his body having been pushed beyond anything that food could help repair. But he would worry about that when found her, not before.

"Hera," he said without turning from the window. "Try to eat fast, okay, honey?"

She didn't reply. He looked back to repeat himself, but she wasn't there.

"Hera?" he called out, dashing back into the main hallway of the house. Looking back and forth, he caught sight of the storm door swinging shut, and Hera standing just outside it. He walked over and followed her out. "Hera, don't wander away like that, okay? You scare me when you..."

His voice trailed off as Hera stepped away and began to walk out into the empty street. She looked out to the west, focusing on something he couldn't see as she continued to walk away.

"Hera, stop," he said, catching up with her and lifting her off the ground.

She screamed as he held her, her nails digging into the flesh of his arms, but her eyes stayed fixed on a point unseen. He set down the screaming girl to examine the bloody scratches she had left on his arm, and the moment he did so, she continued on her path.

He stood in place, watching as his daughter walked with purpose away from him. He considered stopping her again, but didn't. She seemed to know where she wanted to go, which was more than he could say for his own aimless search.

Following after her, he looked up into the sky to see the sun sitting low on the horizon. The walk into town had taken too long, and soon their search would continue by night. But Hera seemed unconcerned with time or distance or anything other than her destination.

"Where are we going?" he asked, walking behind his daughter. He didn't expect an answer, but he got one.

"Mommy," she said without looking back.

The single word held all the power it had the first time he heard her say it. His eyes looked up immediately, following his daughter's gaze intently.

They crossed back through the market square, and he thought Hera might stop there beside the ship, but she didn't even pause, instead continuing towards the other side of town. The sun fell lower and lower until it disappeared completely beneath the horizon, but just before it did, a familiar street came into view. 

She stopped and pointed down the street, then looked up at him.

He knew the street, he knew where it led, and he prayed he wasn't too late. Picking Hera up off the ground, he ran as fast as he could down the darkened path; every pain was forgotten as he realized how close she was.

The temple doors were open, and the last rays of light painted the white walls of the pantheon in gold.

"Sharon," he shouted as he reached the entrance and set Hera down.

He didn't draw his sidearm or pause as he stepped through the doorway, all logic and ration stripped away by a different kind of fear.

A fear that stopped him a moment later.

"Sharon," he whispered.

Her lifeless from rested at the base of the altar, her naked body wrapped in a brown blanket. Her bare arms and legs were covered in dry blood, as was the blanket itself. Her dark hair was matted against her skin and the cold stone floor.

Rushing to her side, he knelt beside her and pressed his hand against the cold skin of her neck.

But before he could register a pulse, her eyes blinked open.

Her face was expressionless as she woke, staring across the stone, and then her eyes moved to his. She stared up at him for a long moment, and then a tear fell from her eye. She turned away and buried her face in the blanket as a small sob racked her body.

"Sharon," he said, squeezing her bare shoulder. "I'm here, Sharon."

She shook her head as more tears fell, her sobs and cries growing louder and echoing through the chamber. She folded in on herself, trying to escape his touch and hide in the blanket.

"It's okay," he whispered, kneeling low over her body.

"Helo," she cried, curling away from him. "I got sick."

"Sharon, don't-"

"I got sick," she bawled, grabbing her hair with her fists as she sobbed, hiding her face from him. "I started to bleed."

"Sharon, please stop," he pleaded, knowing what she would say if he let her. He couldn't bear to hear it. A tear slid down his cheek and fell on the blanket. "Don't say it, Sharon," he begged.

"I came here," she continued, her body shaking as she cried. "I came here to pray."

Beside her body, something was wrapped carefully in her black fatigues. 

"Sharon," he whispered, another tear falling from his eye. "Sharon, everything's gonna be okay."

"The baby," she said between sobs.

He held her tight, trying to contain his grief, trying to ease her pain.

"Listen to me," he said, pressing his forehead against her temple. "You're going to be alright Sharon, I promise."

"I lost our baby," she cried, screaming into the blanket.

"It's okay," a soft voice materialized, and he realized Hera was beside them. The little girl crawled next to her mother and looked into her eyes. "Don't cry mommy."

Sharon took her daughter in her blood stained arms, pulling her close as another wail echoed into the night.

--- End Chapter 11 --- 


	12. Chapter 12

**Home**  
**Author:** JPBryant  
**Characters:** Sharon/Helo  
**Rating:** Mature, for descriptions of violence, language and sexual situations.  
**Spoilers:** Through 'A Measure of Salvation", everything after that is AU.  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
**Summary:** After rescuing Hera from the Cylons, Helo and Sharon try to start a new life. Set after "A Measure of Salvation", it goes completely AU after that.  
**A/N:** The twelfth of seventeen chapters to the story, I'll be posting them as I finish them. Thanks to wintergreen126, Lightn, and Jazmin22 - I can't thank them enough for all the time they put into helping me with this.

**Chapter 12**

The wind blew viciously across the peak of the mountain, the temperature falling far below freezing.

He wasn't sure how long he had been there, alone, kneeling before the mound of loose dirt. Hours maybe. A rock beneath his knee dug into him as he stared silently at the small pieces of granite he had arranged around the mound.

He had been here before. Saying goodbye to his child.

But there would be no reprieve this time. No one to tell him his daughter still lived. No second chance.

No chance to put things right.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, the wind taking the words from his lips before they made a sound. His tears fell steadily down his cheeks, and the wind took those as well.

There was no marker beyond the small cairn he had built at the foot of her grave. There hadn't been time for anything more. She had needed a burial, and Sharon had needed him.

"I'll be back, Hestia," he promised. The name felt right coming off his tongue, and he wished she had heard him say it. Just once. "As soon as I can, I'll be back." 

Leaning over, he placed a piece of rose quarts at the base of the cairn. A gift received from one daughter, and given to another. 

---

He sat alone at the bottom of the stairs, trying to compose himself. Ten feet above him Sharon lay in bed recovering, waiting. The bowl of canned fruit and glass of water he was bringing her were sitting on the step beside him.

Resting his elbows on his knees, he pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes and took a deep breath. He needed this moment before he could face her pain, before he could try and take some of it from her. Clearing his throat, he cleared his eyes to make sure there were no tears for her to see.

"Hey," he said as he carried her breakfast into the room.

She rested on her side, facing the wall, her tired eyes staring vacantly ahead. Her hands were tucked beneath her cheek, and her dark hair laid flat against the white pillow. Across the room Hera sat in her bed and stared out the window.

"I brought breakfast," he said, sitting down in the chair beside their bed.

She turned onto her back to look at him as he set the food and water down on the night stand. He reached out to take her hand, and smiled softly at her. When he did, he thought he saw the faintest hint of a smile on her lips as well, but it was gone a moment later.

"I've got a fire going downstairs," he said. "It should help warm things up a bit. It might take a while, but I'll keep it going till it does."

Her brown eyes stayed fixed on his without expression, but she didn't reply.

"We have enough food to last us at least a month now," he continued. "I think that we should be able to..."

He stopped as a tear streaked down her face, followed by another on the opposite cheek. She stared up at him as more threatened to fall.

"I can't do this, Helo," she said softly.

"It's okay," he said, leaning in closer and squeezing her hand. "It's okay, Sharon."

She closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. "I can't do this alone," she said. "Not again."

"Sharon, I'm right here," he said, reaching up to wipe away her tears. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

"But you're not with me," she replied. "You're somewhere else." 

"Sharon-"

"You're trying to be strong for me," she continued, smiling through her tears for him. "Just like you were with Hera."

"Sharon, I..."

He closed his eyes and looked to the ground. He had spent so long hiding his pain from her, it came as second nature. He couldn't count how many times had he left her cell after Hera's death, only to cry in the privacy of his own bunk.

Tears verged on his lids as he thought about how he had done the same for the past three days. 

"I...I don't..."

"But I don't need you to be strong for me." She squeezed his hand gently, urging him to look back at her. As he did, the first tear he had let her see fell to the wooden floor. "I need you to tell me I'm not alone," she whispered.

He couldn't see her through the tears collecting in his eyes.

"You're not alone," he said, his voice cracking as he pressed his face into the bed covers and cried for the little girl he would never know. Her hand rested on the back of his neck as he sobbed into the blanket, his body shaking as he wished for what might have been.

--- End Chapter 12 and Part 2 --- 


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